Heaven Help My Heart
by ILoVeWicked
Summary: Things at Oceanside take a turn for the worst when Naomi debates a decision, Dell does something to jeopardize his job and the practice, Addison deals with Noah, Violet gets a visitor and more. Starts at 2x19. Hope you enjoy and PLEASE R&R!
1. What I Like About You

**A/N: Hey, everyone! So who else was super mad when that freaking screen went black at the end of the finale?! I was like, 'Wait...what? It's over?! We don't know what happens till season 3?! NOOO!' and then my mom was like, 'It's eleven o' clock and you have school tomorrow. Calm down.' and then my dad came out of nowhere and was like 'NADINAAA!' because he can't pronounce Idina Menzel's name right at all and after I had talked his ear off for the longest time after Idina was on the show the week before, he's convinced she's a regular. Ah, fathers.... Well, there's some family information for ya!**

**As far as this goes, I originally had come up with this idea after the "Do the Right Thing" episode, but I got lazy and never kept up with it. Then the finale happened, and people started writing some stories on what they thought was going to happen after the finale left off (all of which are AMAZING, by the way. Kudos to the authors!) and all these pretty little ideas floated into my head! So I thought I'd keep going with this, starting from 2x19 (with my own little additions and alterations, of course) and going on until the finale, where I can create my own little ending ;) As for format of this: each chapter starts out with some meaningful lyrics that I think connects with the chapter/story from a song (additional disclaimer: I do not own any of the songs used in this), and different main characters get a little snippet in each chapter. So I hope you enjoy, and pretty please review!?**

**-ILoVeWicked**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Private Practice.  
****  
What I Like About You**

_What I like about you  
You hold me tight  
Tell me I'm the only one  
Wanna come over tonight?  
Keep on whispering in my ear  
Tell me all the things that I want to hear  
'Cause it's true  
That's what I like about you_

PETE

There were many things that attracted him to Ben's mother. Her striking features were among the many reasons. Her sparkling emerald green eyes dazzled and lit up with every word that passed those perfectly shaped, rosy red lips. Her dark brunette, silky locks fell just below her chest, shimmering in the moonlight as they walked along the beach, their hands entwined and their feet digging into the cool sand. The ocean occasionally crept up on them, making her jump slightly at the sudden invasion. They were so lost in each other's eyes, neither of them cared to notice when the intruder would approach again.

What he adored the most about her was her laugh. She found even the corniest of his jokes funny; not a hint of fake enthusiasm sat behind her chuckles. And without a doubt, her laugh was the prettiest noise he had ever heard. It tinkled like a shiny silver bell, lingering in his ears even when it had subsided, leaving him wanting more of it. More of _her_. Sometimes, she even snorted when she laughed. That, and the extra giggle of embarrassment as her face grew red after doing so, proved to him that she was human.

He had never felt this way about someone on a first date before. He had only been with her for an hour, and yet, he felt like he had known her for years. Pete only recalled feeling this way about one other woman once before, and now, that same woman wanted nothing to do with him. He had an inkling that things with Ben's mother would be different; he made it a mental priority to make sure things went different with her.

After another one of her beautiful laughs, Pete looked back into those striking eyes of hers and let out a chuckle of his own. "You know," he began. "We've been having so much fun, I didn't even catch your name." Even in the moonlight, he could see her blushing bright pink across her cheeks.

"Omigosh," she breathed, her eyes growing wide. She turned her porcelain face back up towards him and smiled. "It's Lisa, by the way." She held out her hand in mock introduction. "It's nice to meet you." Pete grasped her hand and shook it firmly.

"Lisa…" he said, drawing out the name. "That's a beautiful name."

"Peter's quite handsome as well," Lisa added with a wink. They continued with their stroll, neither of them even daring to break the intense stare they held on each other. Pete kept her hand firmly in his hand, swinging their arms back and forth.

"Ben's _really_ happy that we're doing this," Lisa told him. He caught the hopeful tone in her voice. "It's all he would talk about today. I think you may have even made his father jealous." Without hesitation, Pete replied.

"Well, for the record, I'm _really_ happy we're doing this as well."

Then she laughed, playing the drawstrings on his heart like a violin.

ADDISON

She didn't know exactly how it had happened, but it _had_ happened, and 'it'—kissing Noah—had been even more amazing than she had expected. If it weren't for the voice that had been screaming in her head for the entire duration of the kiss, she would have woken up in Noah's arms that morning, and not on the floor of her living room next to a pile of tissues and an empty bottle of red wine.

When she opened her eyes, she was blinded by the illuminating light coming from her living room windows, and the crashing of ocean waves roared in her ears like painful reminders of slamming the front door in Noah's face. She craned her aching head to the side to come face to face with the label of the wine bottle and sighed heavily, thinking of her fragile emotional state.

She considered getting up and calling in sick, which was in no way a lie or excuse, but then backed out when she thought of how Dell was screwing up Naomi's schedules by being late and how her being absent would only put her friend in more turmoil. Then again, Naomi was happily testing her oats and dating adorable, successful, _single _men. Addison envied her friend's good fortune in that department. If only she could have followed Naomi's example, maybe she wouldn't have to think about the problems Noah was giving her.

It came to Addison's attention that Noah was slowly killing her. Things with Archer had been bad enough, but somehow, worms in her brother's brain could not compare to the pain Noah was putting her through. She often cried herself to sleep thinking of him, her pulse quickened and her breath shortened whenever his image popped into her mind, and even food was beginning to take the shape and form of Noah. When she wasn't thinking of the cardiologist, she found herself _wanting _to think about him. And that scared her the most.

Whenever she looked at herself in the mirror, she resisted jumping back. The reflection that she saw now was not the same Addison that she had been just weeks before. She used to be colorful. Like an old photograph, the color seemed to be draining from her. Even Addison's vibrant red hair seemed duller and unfamiliar to her. She was slowly dissolving into a ghost.

Noah was like a painfully addictive drug to her, and she realized that like a drug, she had started, and there was no stopping it.

DELL

Betsy was the one good thing that came out of Dell's high school years. In the midst of his wild drug abuse, his rampaging father and time he spent in and out of juvenile facilities because of the crazy things he did, that pink bundle of joy in his arms was the one thing that inspired him to throw away the harmful past he had wasted. He didn't want to become one of those fathers who hurt their children because of their mistakes as an adult. He, as a seventeen year old who had seen sexual abuse unfold with his own father, already understood that, and it didn't seem like Heather was going to quit soon at that time.

And in the blink of an eye, his ray of light, his little girl, had been taken from him faster than he could even say 'Betsy'. Without those little dimples and beautiful blue eyes to keep him from picking up a roll of pot, there was nothing to stop him.

He had no idea that being reunited with the substances he had ridiculed in his years of sobriety and cleanliness would feel so satisfying, and he had no idea that they would put him back where he started so quickly. The drugs in his veins put his mind past his daughter in Missouri, and in some ways, he felt like he was getting back at Heather for taking away his baby.

The hazy spell the chemicals had put over Dell caused him not to realize the damage he was causing to himself and the people around him. He was violating his body with the markings of fingernails in his chest and with the drugs killing his body. He didn't realize that the outrageous club-hopping and sleeping around until he woke up so late he came into the practice tardy was revealing his secret to those who cared about him. And he didn't realize that he no longer cared himself. The second he took his beloved drugs, Dell threw away all of the hard work he had gone through for Betsy. He had basically given up without even putting up a fight.

He wasn't fazed one bit when Sam tried his hardest to break the stone expression on Dell's face. All he could think about was the drugs and women that awaited him once he hopped off that elevator.

But as he sat in the dark, the TV blaring muted images on his drooping body, he couldn't help but allow Sam's words to sink in. Sam Bennett had yelled at him, yelled at him and talked down to him like he was a child. Sam did not think that Dell was good enough. At least, that was how Dell perceived Sam's stern lecture. What he didn't take the time to discover as he hopped up from the couch and rooted through his drawers and closets for his camera and tripod, was that Sam was just trying to help him.

Dell fumbled to situate his old tripod into place and to get his video camera to snap onto the tripod. He slewed curses and foul remarks at the contraptions, ripping the used up tape from the camera so he could replace it with a blank one. Dell's hardened attitude softened for a moment when he read the label on the tape:

'Betsy's First Steps'.

Dell felt his eyes well with hot, stinging tears as he thought of his little girl, unaware of how much pain her being away was causing her daddy. He missed Betsy more than any drug. Dell considered stopping his plan at that moment for Betsy's sake, and for a moment, as he gazed into the shiny black screen of the camera, he saw just how much of a monster he had become. But then thought about Sam, and Naomi, and Heather, and he realized that this was something he had to do.

Dell positioned himself on a stool, reached forward and pressed 'PLAY'.

_What I like about you  
You keep me warm at night  
Never wanna let you go  
You know you make me feel alright  
Keep on whispering in my ear  
Tell me all the things that I want to hear  
'Cause it's true  
That's what I like about you_


	2. I'm Not Afraid of Anything

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**I'm Not Afraid of Anything**

_I'm not afraid of anything  
Be it growing old or going out of style  
I'm not afraid of anything  
Who would give up what they want without a trial  
Another mile  
I'm not afraid_

COOPER

"Okay, Munchkin, hop on up on the table," Cooper instructed. The raven haired girl following the orders rolled her eyes.

"Doctor Freedman, I'm fourteen now. Could you please just call me Jess?" Jessica Finch pleaded as she straightened out her blouse. Her mother, Leah, watched anxiously from the seat by the window in Cooper's office, straining her neck to get a good view of her daughter and the doctor. Cooper smirked and patted Jess lightly on the arm.

"Fine then, Jess it is. My God, you're maturing before my eyes. Wasn't it just yesterday you were lying to Violet and Naomi about your 'cat' and it's 'litter'?" Jessica laughed, her cheeks growing red. Leah joined in softly.

"Omigod, I remember that! That was when I had my cat obsession. I described every single one of those kittens to a tee, and all of you fell for it!"

"It suits you that you wanted to be an actress for so long," Cooper added in agreement, taking a good hard look into Jessica's chocolate brown eyes that contrasted with her russet-colored skin.

He had known this patient since the practice had first opened, when Jess was two years old. In that time, her unruly black hair had grown out long and straight, she spurted to five-foot-eleven, and even her smile had changed. Boys and lacrosse were her favorite subjects, unlike cats and Santa Claus used to be. She really _had _grown up in front of Cooper. And it wasn't just Jessica. Violet was becoming a mother, Charlotte was committing to a serious relationship, and even Pete was doing his best to quit sleeping around. It startled him to think that even Pete was growing up.

"I still do! But let's be practical: I'm not that good. So I plan to try to find something different to major in." It was common of Jessica to be so modest to the point where she put herself down, which Cooper knew upset her mother. Leah pursed her lips, as if she wanted to say something, but swiftly sat back in her chair. Cooper noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye and made note to ask her of it later.

"Hey, the way I look at it, you can do anything you want if you put your mind to it and stay positive and confident in yourself." Jess let a '_pfft_' noise escape her lips.

"You sound like my mom," she complained. Leah smiled weakly as the conversation turned to her.

"I feel the same way, Dr. Freedman. She's got talent."

"_Mom!_ You just have to say that because you're my mother!"

"Jess…"

"Drop it, Mom."

Cooper decided that moment would be the best to have Jessica go to the bathroom to change into a sterile gown. Once he watched the young woman bound gracefully out of the room, Cooper rotated on his heels to face her mother. If this mother-daughter pair were to stand next to each other on a busy New York street, not one person would think they were related, they looked so different from each other. Whereas Jess had tan skin and dark hair like her father, Leah had sandy-blonde hair, pale, bleachy skin, and tired blue eyes.

"So, what brings you here today? Jess was just here for a check up a few months ago and…"

"Doctor Freedman, I think Jessica needs to see a professional," Leah blurted out quickly. Cooper could tell she didn't feel as happy about sharing that information as she thought she would have. Cooper's eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, she needs to see a shrink. She hasn't gotten a good night's sleep in a month! Every night, around eleven o' clock, she comes into my room complaining about strange pains and asking me if she's going to die from some far-out disease. And then, once I tell her that she's fine and should go back to bed, she comes back twenty minutes later with a new problem until she just can't sleep at all!" Leah paused to heave a huge breath before continuing.

"I sound silly, don't I?" she stated, laughing self-defeatedly to herself. "You must think I'm crazy." Cooper shook his head quickly, now taking notes.

"Not crazy at all, Leah. It's natural to be concerned. Jess is your oldest child, it's totally normal to feel that way over something you find to be a problem. I actually think it was _smart _of you to come in here and confess this to me. It's not an easy thing."

Leah smiled weakly and played with the bracelet around her wrist. "I'm sure you know that Eric and I are getting divorced," Leah continued. Cooper nodded, even though he was unaware of that news. Leah and Eric had always been the happiest looking couple whenever he saw them. With Jessica and her younger sister Haley, the four looked like the all-American perfect family. He was quite shocked of this news.

"That must be why, then…" Cooper began, unsure why Leah couldn't have figured the obvious out herself. Leah shook her head vigorously.

"I've asked her, Doctor, and she denies it completely. I know my daughter, and if the divorce was what was bothering her, she would let me know. But this…whatever this is…we both have no idea how to stop it. Now that Eric's moved out, I'm a single mother who works forty-five hours a week, and I can't work efficiently if I'm tired. Jess has so much potential to do so many things, and I'd hate for this to prevent her from doing them. So what I'm asking is for help. My daughter needs help, and she needs it before the side-effects of all this worrying kills her."

VIOLET

The one thing Violet hated about being pregnant—besides the two men playing tug-of-war with her and her baby—was the overload of emotions that came with it. She could hardly understand how a tree, which meant nothing to her usually, could make her burst into hysterical tears, and she couldn't understand why she had to snap at every person who even attempted to help her. The way she looked at it, she was a grown woman, a woman who was going to have to help another person soon. She didn't need assistance.

She was enjoying another outrageous snack of peanut butter and jalapeño peppers at the front desk in the lobby when she felt someone sneak up behind her and grab her shoulders. Violet let out a gasp of horror and turned around to face a very confused looking Cooper. Violet huffed and crossed her arms over her sore chest.

"Really? You know how much I _love_ surprise conduct, and yet you have to scare me every time my back is turned away!" Violet hissed, regretting it afterward. There she went with the snapping thing again. She knew that Cooper had good intentions, and she knew that he knew that she was just being emotional. That explained the smirk he had toying on his lips.

"I have a fourteen year old girl with sleep deprivation," Cooper explained, handing Violet a thin manila folder with the name 'Jessica Finch' written across the label. She recognized the name of the girl who had come into the practice when it had first opened. Violet blinked at the folder for a moment and looked back up at her friend.

"Jess Finch? The same kid with the cats?"

Cooper nodded, "And she can't sleep."

"Isn't that Pete's thing?" She didn't seem to catch that she winced when she said Pete's name. "You know, stick a few needles in her and put her to sleep?" Cooper smacked his lips and shook his head, his fingers drumming on the folder.

"Her mind is playing tricks on her, making her come up with strange diseases and pains. This is more complex than acupuncture could heal. Neither she nor her mother has gotten an ounce of sleep in a month. And her parents are getting divorced, if that changes anything."

It changed everything. Violet, a victim of her own parents splitting up when she was six, knew more than anyone at the practice that divorces had a great impact on sleeping patterns in children. But Violet knew Jessica Finch well enough to know that she spoke her mind when something was troubling her.

"Wouldn't that be it, then?" Violet asked, her expression mirroring Cooper's. Cooper shrugged.

"Leah says that's not it, and I'm taking Leah's word for it." Violet huffed, feeling a rush of hormones creep up her throat in acidic word vomit.

"That doesn't leave me with much, Coop! She's a perfectly healthy girl with an over-active imagination! I can't just prescribe drugs to a normal kid with no past in brain damage or insomnia."

Cooper placed a large, warm hand on her tiny shoulder. "Violet, you're Violet. The normal you wouldn't give up so easily. The normal you always finds a way. The normal you would have already agreed to help Jess and her mom out."

Violet held up her hand. The last thing she wanted to do was pick a fight with her best friend in front of all the patients in the lobby. She lowered her voice as she spoke. "First of all, the normal me was fifteen pounds lighter, way less emotional, and not going on maternity leave in a few weeks. And secondly…"

They were both cut off from their thoughts when a _ding_ from the elevator and the clicking of expensive high heels brought their attention to the sliding doors. Violet felt her heartbeat accelerate and her head spin when she came face to face with an older looking, red-headed version of herself. The time machine reflection smiled and cocked her head to the side to stare at Cooper.

"Hello," she said in a deep, seductive voice as she held out her gloved hand. "My name is Sylvia Rainer." Cooper continued shaking the hand, looking horrified. Violet sighed as she imagined Cooper beginning to think that _he _was the one going crazy.

Feigning surprise, Sylvia grinned a sinister, toothy white grin and added, "Violet's older sister."

_And I'm not afraid of anyone  
I am sure to win with anyone at all  
I'm not afraid of anyone  
Not a soul alive can get behind this wall  
So let them call  
And watch them fall  
'Cause after all  
I'm not afraid_

**Hey everyone! Happy Mother's Day! So...yeah, there's a crazy, sleep-deprived kid/mom in the picture (inspired by my own sleeping issue back in the day) and Violet's older sister has arrived (I always pictured her having divorced parents and an older sister for some unknown reason). I apologize if these beginning chapters are super boring, but I like to establish my expositions, and the beginning chappies are therefore almost always a little slower. But don't let that stop you from reviewing! I'm the type of girl who gets excited over one review, so just one little comment would really brighten up my spirits!! Thanks!**

**-ILoVeWicked**


	3. Louder Than Words

**Disclaimer: I do not Private Practice.**

**Louder Than Words**

_Why do we play with fire?  
Why do we run our finger through the flame?  
Why do we leave our hand on the stove  
Although we know we're in for some pain?_

NAOMI

Naomi groaned as a drop of water from the flooded floor above the practice hit her scalp. It had been a long week for her. Things with Duncan were going rough, and her practice was—financially, literally, and family-wise—falling apart.

She saw Addison stride by, her composure crumbling and her face pasty and disturbed, and realized that this wasn't even _her _practice now. Dell stormed in—on time, at least—grumbled something inaudible, and shoved past her. Violet and Cooper were bickering about something to her right, and Pete had not even shown up for work yet. Naomi sighed.

It was hard to make lemonade when there was nothing to make it with.

Lately, it seemed that the only one staying positive was Sam. He always wore a smile, even though she knew well enough to know that he was faking it ninety-seven percent of the time. Still, it felt good to see _someone _smiling, even if it was under false circumstances. Naomi sipped her coffee contemplatively, pondering over what direction her life was headed. All she could use to describe her part at the practice was single, bored, and useless. Now that Addison was head, what point did she have sticking around?

There were many points, just none that she preferred to be reminded of. She and Sam had built this practice from the ground up. The practice was her baby. This practice had been where she met Pete and Violet and Cooper and Dell, her family, and the last thing she would want to do would be abandon them. Her hand found its way into her pocket and fiddled with the piece of paper William had given her, information about the job that could be hers with just one word.

At that moment, Sam came stomping toward her, a smile nowhere to be found on his flawless face. Naomi immediately frowned at the sight of Sam's irked expression.

"My office. _Now_," Sam ordered before she could even have a moment to think. Her thoughts froze immediately. Sam _never _got angry at anyone—especially her. The only time they had ever really fought with one another before their marriage started to get messy was when one lied or kept something from the other. Naomi gasped to herself.

That could only mean…

So many questions ran through her head, but one stood out the most: How had Sam found out that she was considering moving to the fourth floor? Surely, someone must have told him, but who could have given her ex-husband that information? She and William were the only ones who knew of the ordeal. Naomi fought the urge to hit herself. Surely, Sam would have figured out what was going on, being naturally inquisitive when it came to her problems, and he would have stopped at nothing to find out what was troubling her. Naomi stiffened at Sam's forceful touch when she didn't respond quicker.

"Sam, I—I…" Naomi searched for the right words to say, but nothing seemed to be able to absolve her from this lie. Sam's eyes softened for a moment, and for that moment, Naomi felt relieved…and almost…_happy…_to see Sam's shinier side again.

"Just come with me," he commanded, more softly. Hints of disappointment were laced in his velvety voice. Naomi no longer felt guilt for not telling Sam of her plans. She felt guilty for hurting him.

Wordlessly, she followed Sam to his office, which was lacking its normal bright aura. The blinds were shut tightly, leaving the room without the Los Angeles sun to let some light in Sam's office. Papers, documents and notes, were strewn all over the room, which appeared to be more cramped than she had ever remembered. The lights were all turned off. The only source of radiance was the glowing computer screen, which Sam took a seat behind. His eyebrows knit together, crinkling his forehead, in deep thought. With a few clicks, Sam was beckoning her over to join him behind the illuminating screen. Naomi obeyed cautiously.

"Look," Sam demanded through clenched teeth. Naomi was beyond confused at Sam's demands by that point. She knew for a fact that the answer to his questions about her could not be found on the World Wide Web. If _that _wasn't causing Sam's attitude change, then what was?

Naomi's nose curved upward as she peered beyond Sam's shoulder to see the homepage of a familiar website.

"Youtube? All of this angst and hostility is about Youtube? Did they delete 'Charlie the Unicorn' or something?" Naomi asked, giggling. She was beyond happy that she was in the clearing after all. Sam grumbled something and shook his head, the bare skin of his scalp glinting blue in the computer light.

Sam grabbed the mouse and swerved it in the direction of the corner of Youtube's home page and clicked hard on the video underneath the cursor. Naomi recognized the blurred face of Dell.

"Watch this," Sam muttered. Sam pulled away and allowed Naomi to sit in the chair while he paced back and forth in front of his desk.

Naomi watched in horror as a very drunk, high Dell ranted, mimicked and criticized the practice and every adult that worked there. Dell put down the practice's new approaches to medicine, how it was a private practice. He slurred on to exaggerate over the small percentage of patients that came down with strange problems, and he did not even touch on how ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the time that the patients were normal and healthy.

Dell spewed curses and made cruel jokes about every single one of them and their personal problems, which he had been clearly listening upon: Pete dating a patient's mother, Violet's baby daddy trouble, Addison's issues with Noah, Cooper and Charlotte's crazy sexcapades, and lastly, he took an extra long three minutes to run off about how Sam and Naomi acted like they were his parents, and acted like they were just friends and how they were too stupid to notice that they were still in love with each other.

Naomi clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from gasping. Her eyes watered with tears. How could Dell, the boy who had just a month ago been so eager to learn, to help, the boy who had good intentions, turn his back on the place he loved and on the people he admired? Naomi let her eyes fall to the number of hits the video had gotten. She was horrified to find that in one night, the video had already received the attention of 1,557,893 viewers. 1,557,893 people, all from around the world, would know of the practice. 1,557,893 people would never be able to erase the cruel words Dell had said from their memories. Surely, this could mean nothing good for the practice.

She looked back up from the corner of the screen to see Dell's pixel-face, so close she wanted to reach out and touch it. The computerized Dell smiled evilly and whispered in a low, threatening voice, "Go ahead, fire me. You know I won't care. I want to get out of this place and away from you freaks as soon as possible. Some influence you all are. Look at me now! I'm more hammered than I've ever been before! And it feels _good_. So long, Suckas!"

He laughed wickedly and the screen went blank.

Naomi let Dell's last words sink in. Her heart yearned to be there for him, because she knew he was hurting, and tell him that everything was going to be okay. But she wasn't quite sure of that everything would be okay herself, and Dell had been right. She wasn't his mother.

Her head jerked up to see Sam clearing his throat. A melancholy look was painted on his face, though she knew he had been hurt by Dell as well. With a small, sad, smile, Sam opened his mouth and whispered:

"Houston, we've got a _big _problem."

_Cages or wings?  
Which do you prefer?  
Ask the birds.  
Fear or love, baby?  
Don't say the answer  
Actions speak louder than words._

**Yo yo yiggity yo! I dunno...I thought switching embryos was too lame of a reason for Dell to get fired. Youtube (which I don't own either) is the way to go!! I mean, look at Miley and Mandy (ewwww! Miley Cyrus!!!), Fred, and even me and my buddies. Yeah, Youtube is the perfect way to embarrass yourself/speak your mind and be heard in the 21st centruy. So I hope this chapter was to your satisfaction, since none of you care to review and let me know yourself (tears)...seriously, guys, over 200 views (On a seprate note: thanks for the big numbers, by the way. At least your reading it.) and not one review? You've reduced me to begging. My week has started off on a pretty bad foot, and just one teeny, tiny review would make me feel a lot better! So please, if you like this, hate this, would like to see this obliterated and thrown in the recyling bin, let me know! Just one little minute of your time to click a button and type a few words is all I'm asking, is all I need to get me motivated to write and updating faster! Thanks so much! ;)**

**-ILoVeWicked**


	4. It Sucks to be Me

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

**It Sucks To Be Me**

_When I was little, I thought I would be...  
__A big comedian on late night TV  
But now I'm thirty-two, and as you can see  
I'm not  
__Oh Well,  
It sucks to be me.  
__It sucks to be me.  
__It sucks to be broke and unemployed and turning thirty-three.  
It sucks to be me._

OMICIENT 

"Morning," Namoi grumbled to a very unpleasant looking Addison. Addison grumbled in response and grabbed a mug to pour her coffee in. She knew it would be no use; caffiene wasn't the answer to wake her up from this nightmare she was living. Naomi absorbed Addison's mood like a sponge and wordlessly did Addison the favor of pouring the coffee, watching her friend's face for the slightest hint of a breakdown.

"You okay?" Naomi asked, although they both knew that she knew the answer without even having to ask. Addison watched her friend's face and felt safe knowing that Naomi wasn't just hungrily seeking gossip to escape from her own empty life. Besides, Naomi had always been the one person she could confide in for anything, including the Mark, Derek, Meredith, love triangle fiasco back in Seattle. Addison took a large, thought-drowing swig of coffee and sighed.

"I kissed Noah." She respected that Naomi's facial expression did not even twitch in the slightest. She may have not had the best luck with men, but she sure prided herself in picking a best friend. "He just came to my house, said some things, and he kissed me…then, I kissed him back. Believe me, Nae, I knew it was wrong, and I didn't want to, but I did."

"Did you…?"

Addison shook her head and let a whoosh of air escape her lungs. "I wanted to do that, too, but I pushed him away and shut the door in his face. And now I feel horrible."

"For shutting the door in Noah's face or for kissing him in the first place?"

Addison wanted to scream out at her friend that she didn't know, for she felt torn between all of her feelings at that moment, but the last thing she wanted was to upset yet another person who had an importance residence in her heart. Naomi was simply asking these questions to help her, and although she needed something to scream at besides her pillow, Addison refrained from lashing out at her friend.

"Both?" she whispered honestly, because it was partially true. She felt horrible for leaving Noah out in the cold without a single word, and yet she felt just as worse for kissing him and liking it when poor Morgan was sitting at home and wondering what to name her child. Naomi nodded and took a sip of coffee. Addison detected that there was something she was hiding as well.

"Dell made a Youtube video."

"...Good for him?"

Naomi pulled her laptop across the counter, accessed the video, watched as Addison's face contorted from dead to humiliated and horror-stricken at Dell's comments, and answered, "Yeah, sure, good for _him_, but bad for us."

"How the hell did _Dell_ know about Noah?" Addison spat angrily, her blue eyes ablaze. Naomi shrugged and stared blankly at the the number of hits, which had drastically gone up since she had last watched the video that morning.

"Beats me. We need to have a group talk about this before someone gets hurt…"

At that moment, Violet came bursting through the doors of the lounge, Cooper following at her tail. They were both shouting at each other so loudly and swiftly that neither Addison nor Naomi could understand a word the pair was saying. Clearly, neither of them had any idea that their personal lives were being ridiculed in front of the world.

Only one word stuck out amongst the string of Violet's shirll voice with Cooper's frantic one: 'Sylvia'.

"What's wrong?" Naomi asked. The look on her face had changed, and she was evidentally looking for gossip now rather than looking to help Violet and Cooper out. She needed something to cheer her up in the worst way, and Violet and Cooper's problems were usually amusing to hear about. Cooper turned to the two of them, skepticism in his face.

"Violet has a _sister_. A _sister_!" he explained to the others, his voice rising at least three octaves. Addison and Naomi, who had both experienced more shock that morning than a normal person could handle, mirrored Cooper's expression and stared at Violet in disbelief. Violet now felt cornered and protected herself with the candy bar she had at hand.

"You have a sister?" Addison and Naomi asked simultaneously. Violet nodded sheepishly and gwanwed on her candy. She tended to eat like a person who had been stranded for years on an island and had seen food for the first time in years when she got nervous.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Addison asked, speaking for all in the room. She thought she knew enough about _these _people to keep any more secrets from popping up. She thought she had seen the last of the skeletons in the Oceanside closet when Dell brought in Betsy and when Noah dropped the Morgan bomb on her. Violet simply shrugged.

"You're not the _only _one around here that has a screwed up family life, you know," Violet pointed out. "My sister is…well…she's like…ugh, you know what I mean! It's not something I'd prefer to talk about, so drop it, okay?"

"Gossiping about me again, ladies?" Pete answered innocently, yogurt at hand as he came up behind Violet and scared her half to death. Though the point that he was making was blatantly obvious, Pete couldn't help but crack an uncharacteristic smile. All of the others in the room were blinded by the happiness. Pete squeezed Violet's shoulder. "Care to run the big situation by me? You look stressed."

Before Violet could open her mouth, Cooper screamed out, in a childish tone, "Violet has a sister!"

Pete's eyebrow cocked upward as he nearly choked on his yogurt. He was surprised to learn this about Violet, whom which he thought he knew everything about. How a detail so major could never come up in their ten years of knowing each other, he had no idea. He was still smiling. "A sister? You mean, like, a real sister?"

Violet snorted. "Yeah, a _real sister_. Why is this such a big deal to all of you?" Violet wished she hadn't asked that question. Honesty had always been a big deal for the people at the practice. Naomi shook her head, disturbed by all of the crazy new information she had learned in less than two hours of her work day. Suddenly, working at the fourth floor was looking far more appetizing than it had ever looked.

"You didn't tell us," Pete said grimly, referring to more than just knowing about a sister. Violet felt herself flush with guilt and embarrassment as she read the slight flicker of hurt in Pete's eyes. Pete caught the woman gawking at him and quickly morphed back into the sprightly man he had entered as.

"There's nothing to tell!" Violet snapped, a little too loudly. Coffee sloshed around in Addison's mug as she jumped over Violet's sudden outburst. "My sister just decided to show up at the worst moment possible, played mind games with poor Cooper, and conned me into going to lunch with her."

"_Are _you going?" Cooper asked, remembering the conversation, which consisted of far more input by Sylvia than by Violet. Violet shrugged sarcastically.

"I don't have much of a choice. She's five years older than me, and ever since my mother died when I was eleven, she was all I had to look up to. It would be like rejecting my own mother if I didn't go."

Naomi, Addison, and Cooper all nodded, sympathetic of Violet's situation. Pete continued to smile and started to hum in a very off-key tone while he poured himself some coffee.

Though they had all taken Pete's oddly good mood that morning to notice, Naomi was the first who was brave enough to point it out. The _last _thing she needed was to have Pete high on drugs too.

"And why are _you _such a ray of sunshine this morning, Pete?" Naomi asked as she miserably chewed on her grapes. They burst as sour puddles on her tongue. "Did you follow the leprechaun to the end of the rainbow and find a pot of gold or something?" Pete, still smitten, shook his head.

"Nope. I'm just head over heels for Lisa, Ben's mom," he replied simply. He resumed humming his tune, which strangely sounded like Etta James' 'At Last' if listened to closely enough. Violet's nose curved upward.

"You didn't get _her _pregnant, too, did you?" she asked cynically. Though the comment would have normally put Pete back into his normal 'Loom and Gloom' attitude, he continued to let his set of pearly white teeth shine through Violet's dripping sarcasm (and hint of jealousy). He chuckled softly and patted Violet's head, as if she were a small child, and surveyed the group sitting at the table, all emotional wrecks. He sighed defeatedly.

"What? You all think it's ridiculous that I've found happiness while you all have relationship problems of your own? You don't think Lisa and I will last because of my track record? Because frankly, I don't see anything wrong with this. Is it against the rules to really like someone who is smart, beautiful, sweet, and beautiful?" Pete ranted. The bright and shininess never left his face, and it agitated a certain brunette who considered herself stupid, fat, and selfish.

"You said beautiful twice," Violet grumbled, low enough that only Pete could hear it as he passed by. Pete stopped whistling for a moment and squatted to be eye level with Violet.

"Lisa has _three _sisters," he shot back quietly. The statement was not intended to infer any competition between the two women in his life, it was just to point out how upset he was by the fact that Violet had kept something from him…again. That didn't prevent the glimmer of envy in her pale blue eyes that he caught. He did not feel as satisfied as he had expected to feel after doing so. As he peered over at the fidgeting Naomi, washed-out Cooper, and trainwrecked Addison, he suddenly felt the need to stay happy. Pete shrugged the moment off and briskly made his way out the door, feeling Violet's eyes on his back the whole time.

Violet huffed in frustration. From what she had seen, Lisa was pretty much the Anti-Violet. She was peppy, so sweet it was sickening, and a good-mother to her little son. All the things that she was not. It was no wonder Pete raved about her. Jealous could not be the word to describe how she felt towards Lisa, for she knew when she stood no chance against the new goddess that had come into Pete's life. All hope at even being the tiniest bit jealous was pointless. Worthless in comparison, maybe, was a better way to put her feelings.

Suddenly, lunch with her older sister didn't seem like such a bad idea after all. Violet knew she would hate every waking moment of dining with Sylvia, but it beat sitting around the table of the living-dead and moping about that which she could not have.

"Well, I'm off to lunch," she stated. Cooper glanced lazily at his watch and looked back up at her as if she had two heads.

"It's nine AM," he said bluntly. "You have to help me with Jess."

"Cooper," she pleaded, grabbing her jacket. "I need to go spend time with my sister and let her pick me apart before I grab Naomi's grapes and combine them with marshmellows." Naomi pulled her bowl of grapes toward her protectively. "I promise I'll help you out with Jess once I get back...if I make it out of the reataurant alive, that is."

And then there were three.

Addison sighed longingly over Pete's stable relationship with a woman he had only met a week ago, wishing love wasn't as complicated for her as it was for Pete. The man even had Violet silently swooning with his simple presence. She reached forward and grabbed her first file of the day, which she had carried in with her but never took the time to look at.

Just her luck. Morgan was her first patient.

"On to my house call," Addison announced, removing her jello-limbed self from her stool, though she wished she could sit there forever. "Let me know when this group meeting's going to happen. I'll be there." Her once graceful stirdes were staggered and slower than ever; as she made her way to the door like a zombie, Naomi and Cooper exchanged an all knowing glance.

"Oh, and Addison?" Naomi called after her. Addison whirled around, praying that Naomi would say to take the day off, praying that her best friend would rid her of doing this horrible deed. Instead, Naomi's mouth curved up.

"Try to smile at least once today, okay?" It came out as more of a command than a suggestion. Addison, knowing that nothing in the world, _no one _in the world could make that possible, figured that the moment would be the best time to follow her friend's commands, just to humor Naomi and Cooper.

"I'll try." Addison's smile looked more like a crooked red line rather than a grin, but Naomi let it slide. At least she was trying.

"Group meeting?" Cooper asked once Addison was out of their sight. "Did something happen?" Naomi sighed. The oppurtunity had been lost the second Pete had walked out the door of the lounge, the moment where most of her staff had been corralled. Instead, she slid her laptop over to her left and pursed her lips after getting up and making her way to the door. Cooper aimed a questioning look in her direction.

"Press play. I've seen that thing one too many times," Naomi sighed, leaving the room to embark on what she knew would be the start of an interesting day.

She was hardly surprised when there was no one eagerly sitting behind the front counter of the main lobby.

_It sucks to be me.  
__It sucks to be me.  
__Is there anybody here  
It doesn't suck to be?  
It sucks to be me!_

**With the lack of reviews...I'm starting to think that it sucks to be _me. _Come on, you guys! Pleeeease? Just one review is all I'm asking! Alright, enough of my whining. I can't force anyone to do anything they don't want to do ;) Thanks for reading! **

**-ILoVeWicked**


	5. Don't Let Me Down

**Disclaimer: I do not own PrP. **

**Don't Let Me Down**

_Where do you go?  
When you're alone and in your head  
Why do they know you?  
Is your story painted in red?  
What do you see?  
What do you dream when you're awake?  
What have they seen of you?  
Are you afraid of what's been said?  
__And if time stood still  
If you won't be your witness  
No one ever will_

ADDISON

Halfway there, she almost turned back.

It was Morgan's smiling face that kept her driving towards Noah's picturesque beachfront mansion, the face that lit up with any good news, and the face that could break when she learned just what was going on between her doctor and her husband. Addison couldn't let that face break, she wouldn't let it break, and she promised herself that she would do whatever it took to keep Morgan's face from crumpling.

Her knuckles were white from clutching onto the steering wheel so tightly, but Addison's mind was not focused on the skin practically ripping off of her hands at the moment. Not only was Morgan's bright smile fluttering through her thoughts, but a certain cardiologist had found a permanent residence in her brain as well. Addison tried desperately to wash him from her mind…blaring the radio and singing along at the top of her lungs, yoga breathing, the license plate game...but nothing could erase that beautiful face from her mentality. It frustrated her and exhilarated her at the same time.

On one hand, constantly thinking about Noah meant she felt the same for him as he felt for her, but on another hand, she knew there was no way she could have him unless she did what she had come to LA to get away from. She was _not _a cheater, and she believed that cheating on Derek one time did not qualify her as one.

Yet, when she had done nothing wrong, she felt far worse than sleeping with Mark during her miserable marriage had ever made her feel.

She found herself absentmindedly fixing herself up and adding final touches to her appearance: her hair was in tact, not a wrinkle could be found in her clothes, and her make-up was applied so perfectly she looked like a Mabeline model. Though she _knew _he would be working, she felt the need to look presentable for him in the wild chance that he was home. Addison's ring-less, slender finger pressed softly into the doorbell, awaiting Noah's maid, Angelica.

She wasn't expecting the man to actually be home, and it caught Addison completely off guard when Noah swung the huge eggshell-colored door open to reveal the flawless face that she had not been able to get out of her head for days, especially since the day she had _closed _the door on him.

She cringed inwardly when his face lit up at the sight of her and exclaimed her name, for she had expected him to simply return the gesture and shut the door in her face as she had so gracefully done for him.

"Come on in. Morgan's upstairs," he said, his face cheeky and unreadable. Addison could find no underlying emotion beneath that smile, the smile that irked her and sent her heart racing all at once. The feeling that she had expected to feel when she saw him again, a wave of compassion, forgiveness and lust, never even graced her. The emptiness of their conversation infuriated her. She wanted desperately to turn back to her car, or at least for Noah to not be there. Being in his house, under his fancy crystal chandelier and his expensive knickknacks, was bad enough.

But Noah had already shut the door behind them and was leading her up the stairs. Addison sighed. It was too late to turn back now.

SAM

He was disappointed in Dell. He had expected better of the doe-eyed, enthusiastic adolescent of Oceanside Wellness, especially with his daughter coming into the picture. Didn't Dell know that he was hurting Betsy by shooting up again even though the little girl was hundreds of miles away? Sam was sure it would not look good if and when Heather returned…and for Betsy to see her father looking like her mother usually did…it was unfair to Betsy in Sam's opinion and it made him shudder.

From what he had seen, Betsy was extremely mature for her age. She barely talked back and ran around like a wild child; just give her a crayon and a piece of paper and she was content, not a peep or a whine. Sam liked to believe growing up with two young, unsure parents did that to her. He was sure that Betsy had been told on more than one occasion to shut up by an adult. In the presence of adults, that was exactly what she did. She had heard and seen things that young children her age should never have had to see in their lifetimes, and like most six-year-olds, she absorbed every bit of it like a sponge and she understood every bit of it. Betsy was stronger than her own parents were at just six years old.

Sam could not imagine Maya growing up without the parental influence of Naomi and himself…but mostly Naomi. He could see more and more of his ex-wife in his growing daughter every day. Sam smiled smugly to himself, caught up in his moment of solitude. He figured that if he couldn't be happy with the outside world, being happy on the inside world, his own cranium, would do. The very thought of Maya becoming more and more like Naomi assured him that she would grow up to be a sophisticated, intelligent, and certainly beautiful woman.

Just like Naomi. Naomi. His ex-wife. His _chum, pal, amigo_. Duncan, one of his best friend's, girlfriend. Sam grimaced at the thought them, his friend and his…other friend, holding hands, telling jokes, sharing their most inner feelings, kissing, loving each other…

Without him. Sam muttered foul words to himself as he gathered his belongings (and wits) for the day. Great, so now the outside _and _the inside world were gloomy places, and there was no escaping either of them.

Just as he passed by the coat closet door, he heard the screeching of a familiar pair of sneakers as the person wearing them dragged himself into the lobby and flopped behind the front desk, mumbling tiredly while doing so. Several patients in the lobby exchanged knowing glances and whispers, making Sam assume that he and Naomi were not the only ones in the practice who had seen the infamous video. Sam peered over his shoulder, where Dell was sitting, slumped in his chair with bloodshot red eyes and looking disgusted to be there.

Their eyes met for a moment, red with brown, and for a moment, it made Sam think of Good versus Evil. Dell's head moved slightly downward, waving off Sam, and he resumed with the work that he had been left to do, as if he hadn't just single-handedly destroyed everyone's careers and reputations. With clenched fists, Sam stormed down the hallway.

CHARLOTTE

Charlotte knew for a fact that if she were not dating Cooper, she would never even let the thought of Violet Turner's feelings cross her mind. Heck, even as she currently dated Cooper she didn't want to think about the best friend that consumed half her lover's life. As a big attention-seeker for as long as she could remember, she resented Violet for taking up a part of Cooper, a part of her.

But as she stood in the elevator on her way up to the fifth floor and watched as Violet, a clear mess, stepped inside and slammed down on the ground level button, Charlotte couldn't help but wonder what was going through the other woman's head.

Charlotte watched in curiosity as Violet fidgeted with nerves and occasionally glanced at her reflection in the mirror, smoothing out any wrinkle in her clothing, any stray hair on her head, or any splotch of make-up on her face. Charlotte scrutinized Violet's troubled expression. A deep frown was planted firmly there; her eyes were drooping and red around the edges. She looked as if she were reluctantly riding this elevator.

She was about to let Violet's problems go. After wincing as she remembered Cooper's snappy service toward the other lady, Charlotte suddenly felt _obligated _to investigate. Charlotte cleared her throat in an attempt to get the attention of the brunette beside her. When Violet didn't even so much as acknowledge her, Charlotte swished a curtain of silky blonde hair over her shoulder and slammed down on the emergency break beside the elevator door. Violet, though her expression was far from a greeting as she gripped onto the side bar of the elevator for her dear life, was at least now looking at her. Charlotte smirked in satisfaction.

"Something bothering you, Turner?" Charlotte asked in her thick Southern accent. Violet laughed sarcastically, took a step back and held out her hands, an open gesture to instruct Charlotte to examine her entire appearance. Not a line out of place, this was the most perfect Charlotte had ever seen Violet look.

"Clearly," Violet muttered, turning back to her previous position. Charlotte had never seen anyone use sarcasm against her with the exception of Cooper or her siblings. To see a woman who was usually intimidated by her shooting back without a care made Charlotte wonder if she was losing her touch. She glanced at the clock, which read a few minutes after ten. Her breakfast date with Cooper would have to wait.

After pondering about what could have possibly been troubling Violet, and after several glances at Violet's protruding stomach, Charlotte finally drew a conclusion. Her nose crinkled.

"Oh. The father's not Sheldon, is it?" Charlotte guessed with distain. There had been a bet going on with some of the other doctors behind Sheldon's back at her clinic on the fourth floor, and she had her money on Pete from the very beginning. Violet looked at her with wide, skeptic eyes and began laughing. The laugh was genuine, sweet. Charlotte had never gotten the opportunity to hear her _really_ laugh before. She could see why Cooper always said that Violet had a great laugh.

"Ha. _No_," Violet assured her, sounding relieved and causing Charlotte to believe that she was not the only one who was biased in the situation. "My older sister's in town. I'm supposed to meet her for lunch." She grimaced as she stared at her watch. "Erm…_brunch_."

Charlotte, who had grown up with five brothers and sisters who all loved each other unconditionally, stared at the shorter woman in disbelief. If one of her sisters had come to visit from Alabama, which was rare, she would be the happiest girl on earth.

"That's hardly anything to sulk over, Turner," Charlotte stated, ridicule practically dripping through her words. Violet shook her head and breathed out a short-lived chuckle.

Violet's trembling hand slammed down on the emergency break, and the elevator jerked back to life. The chrome doors slid open, and Violet stepped out into the Los Angeles heat. Just before the doors slid shut, Violet's arm stuck through. She gazed up at Charlotte, her blue eyes dripping with that same ridicule as she bit her bottom lip.

"You don't know my sister."

_I hear a voice that's in my head  
Don't let me down  
'Cause I can't hold the future in my head  
So many things I should have said  
That let me let me down_

**Hey! So I finally got some reviews! Thanks to The Mind's Eye and chiqipoo, I've regained my writer's self-esteem. Thank you soooo much again, guys! Sorry I got so pushy with you all on the reviews...I was super-moody (ergh...hormones, important performances and school...lovely mix, right?) last week, but things have turned up, and who knew an attitude adjustment would magically make reviews appear? So anyway, yes, these chapters are pretty boring, but from here on out things start to pick up. Next chapter, we get the pleasure of meeting Slyvia again (who was a lot of fun to write). And in later chapters, Pete/Lisa and Addison/Noah will start picking up, Naomi and Sam will start to try and figure out what to do with silly, silly Dell, and we start to get more into Jess' sleep issue. Stay tuned, review, and thanks for reading!**

**-ILoVeWicked**

**PS- The one episode I happened to miss all season was the one where Charlotte went back home, so whether or not she has five brothers and sisters and is from Alabama is correct I have no idea. Sorry if the information is wrong, but I wasn't able to find the info anywhere else.**


	6. I Want You to Know

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**I Want You to Know**

_I could feel you, you were there.  
And I could hold you, but you're not there.  
And I, I'm gonna wait.  
I, I'm gonna wait.  
I'm gonna wait._

VIOLET

Just wandering down the street of fancy, expensive boutiques, among people dressed to the nines so early in the morning, already made Violet feel out of place. She had specifically gone out of her way to look nicer once Sylvia decided that she would be the one picking the restaurant, and the restaurant her sister had chosen to dine in was no better at enlightening her mood. Through a sea of heads, she spotted Sylvia's crimson hair, right smack in the middle of the main room of the restaurant. Violet bit back her groan and joined her older sibling.

"Sylvia," she greeted quietly. Sylvia's bright blue eyes lit up at the sight of her. It made Violet sick when she clapped her hands together, her wedding and engagement rings on separate hands clinking together.

"Violet! I'm so glad you could make it! It's been ages since we've seen each other." Violet jumped when her sister squealed enthusiastically, and she began remembering why she had stayed away from her hometown in Delaware for so long.

Violet smiled, feeling that she owed her sister, the woman who raised her, that much. She began nibbling on a breadstick as soon as her sister pushed the basket forward. Not only did she eat like crazy while she was pregnant, eating was her way of easing her nerves. Thankfully, genetics were on her side and she had not always been the size of a blimp up until her pregnancy. She got nervous often. Sylvia smiled back.

Violet took a moment to take in her sister's face. Though she had fallen asleep in a bed across from her for decades, and though she had seen that face at every family occasion and on rare visits, Sylvia's face was somehow unfamiliar. Her hair was a deeper red, her eyes were a deeper blue, and her smile left deeper creases in her aging face. Yet, she still managed to be tragically beautiful, as it always had been.

Sylvia had been the more beautiful, athletic, sociable Turner sister all their lives, whereas Violet had always been homely, clumsy, and shy. It was no secret that their parents had always preferred their first born over Violet, not that she minded. Being born into money, her parents were barely around, so she mostly kept to herself, and that was the way she had always liked it. When left to mind on her own, Sylvia would scream and whine until she got what she asked for. Occasionally, Sylvia would go along with their mother and father, but it was the first time when the two daughters were left alone with the housekeepers that they truly bonded.

Violet had been three, Sylvia eight, and at first, they were uncomfortable. They had lived in the same house, ate at the same table every night, and even shared the same parents, yet they had never had one real conversation. When Violet had first taken Sylvia's hand and led her over to the table and instructed her to start coloring, they had broken the ice. It hadn't frozen back up for years. Up until she turned eleven, Violet and Sylvia attracted, as all opposites do, giving each other make-overs, playing games and sharing secrets in the large bedroom they requested to have together. They were the best of friends, never leaving each other's side. Even when their parents got divorced, Violet and Sylvia stuck together through it all.

And then, her mother passed away, and her whole life changed, Sylvia most notably. She was still the same as she had been before: gorgeous, sporty, and a socialite, but she had become more protective of Violet than ever before. Now that their mother was gone, Sylvia had taken up the belief that _she _had to be the motherly influence of Violet. At first, Violet didn't mind it. Having Sylvia act like the mom, which they had often done while playing House, seemed cool to her, a way to get her mother's death off of her mind. But soon after, Violet wanted nothing but for graduation day to come sooner.

Sylvia let power get to her head, becoming the tyrant of Violet's life. Violet could no longer hang out with her friends without having Sylvia come along to monitor them. She often found herself dateless due to the fact that boys were too afraid of Sylvia to ask her out. Violet couldn't even keep a diary or talk on the phone with friends without worrying about her privacy. As she grew older throughout her teenage years, Sylvia coming along and invading her space became even more embarrassing. In short, her sister was out of control. Violet knew that she was entitled her own freedom, but she was too afraid of hurting her sister, whom she knew just had simple, good intentions and did not realize how big of a pain she was being.

As she whined about it to their friends, her friends spread the word to their older siblings, who spread the word to their fellow classmates. People her own age and even their parents began to ridicule and judge her older sister, and Violet watched in horror as Sylvia silently let the words of her peers affect her. Sure enough, the only way for Sylvia to cope with her pain was to start judging others, especially Violet. Being over watched was no longer a worry for her, it was whether or not what she was doing was to her sister's liking. Whatever it may have been, she would always walk in on her sister, nose in the air and a comment up her sleeve. It came to a point where Violet couldn't even snore correctly.

The worst part of it all was that her father stood back and watched the whole thing, without even taking a stand for either sister.

As soon as she graduated from high school, Violet drove across the country and attended the University of Los Angeles, hoping to never return to her hellhole of a home. She eventually came back after enough begging and Christmas cards from her sister, only returning for family events or holidays. Eventually, her sister got married to a wealthy inventor and had children of her own to boss around and scorn, and Violet's visits became less and less frequent. Once she became a mother to her own children, Sylvia's love for Violet vanished and she quickly became conceited, talking about everything and anything Sylvia whenever she got the chance. No one even bothered to come out to LA, so why, after almost twenty years since she left home, would her sister be showing up now? And of all times?

Back then, she could hardly understand why her sister had become so vile to be around. But now that she was a therapist, Violet knew her sister all too well. For instance, she knew for a fact that Sylvia, when she smiled the way she had been grinning at her at that moment, she knew that her sister wanted something and would stop at nothing to get it. That was part of being a Turner: persistence to the point of arrogance. Violet sighed, figuring that her sister, who was highly stubborn wouldn't jump at the opportunity to give her the reason for the impromptu meeting.

"So, how have you been?" Violet mustered up the courage to make small talk. Sylvia shrugged as she fiddled with her rings.

"Good, good. The kids are fine. Bobby's a junior now," she remarked, pulling out her wallet and pointing to Violet's nephew's latest school picture. Sylvia's other child, a girl named Margaret, was a freshman in college. Violet nodded as she took in Bobby's sudden new look of maturity. He was a spitting image of his mother, though Violet had not been around him enough to know if he was anything _like _her.

Sylvia swiped at the air. "But enough about _me_. Let's talk about _you_."

Violet's eyebrow curved upward. Talking about her. That was new. She immediately caught the direction in which Sylvia's gaze was headed and placed a hand on her stomach, where the Bug was residing.

"What about me?" Violet asked, though she partially knew the answer. Sylvia rolled her eyes innocently and pointed a bony finger across the table.

"Your baby, Silly! I had no idea you were pregnant until Dad told me! Oh, and I was almost certain that you were going to dry up before you even considered having children," Sylvia gushed, unintentionally catching Violet off guard. She had never even contacted her father since she had left last Christmas, before any of the Sheldon-Pete-baby-Saga ever came to be. How did her father find out about her pregnancy?

Her own inner questions were interrupted when Slyvia eyed her hungrily from across the table, which Violet was grateful to have as a barrier between her and her sister.

"Tell me _everything_, Vi! How far along are you? Do you know the sex? How was the morning sickness? Any cravings?" She continued spitting questions similar to most of the inquiries Violet had received over the course of the past seven months, never leaving even a tiny margin for Violet to answer.

When Sylvia stopped to take a breath, Violet stepped in. "It's—good," she said simply, figuring that the one word would be enough to answer all of the questions. Sylvia smiled their mother's infamous, beautiful smile and leaned forward.

"So, is your husband excited?" she said, her voice lowering as if they were sharing some big secret. Violet caught the glimmer in her sister's eye that indicated that unless there was a City Hall in her next answer, she was in trouble for not inviting Sylvia to the wedding. Violet gulped, knowing what would come subsequently.

"Um, I—I'm not exactly _sure _who the father is, Sylvia," Violet said slowly, giving her sister enough time to process every little word she was saying. Sylvia's lower lip jutted out as she frowned.

"What?" she hissed, her eyes bulging from their sockets. Violet bit her lip. "Violet, you mean to tell me you don't have any idea who the father of your baby is?"

"No," Violet answered meekly. "There was this guy…and then there was this other guy while the first guy's ex came back…but the second guy had issues with...and then the first guy came back and I left the second guy…and somehow along the way there was a fertilization involved."

_And somehow_, Violet added to herself in thought, _I ended up alone_.

A young waitress, who had been scribbling down orders for the table beside them, eyed Violet with a crooked smile, obviously finding her situation more hilarious than it seemed. Violet shot her a dismissive glare and turned back to her sister, who was gaping at her like a fish.

"So…" Sylvia began, drawing out the word as she picked at her breadstick. "Do you _want _to know who the father is?"

"Yes," Violet answered quickly, her thoughts wandering to a certain fantasy that she had been having over the past few months. She pondered her possibilities, another one in particular, and quickly changed her mind. "I mean, no." Sylvia's thin eyebrows shot up.

"Do _they _have any idea?"

"Yes."

"Do _they _want to know?"

"Yes."

"So why didn't you find out?"

"Because," Violet replied, rolling her eyes. She might as well have been handcuffed to a chair in the middle of an interrogation room. "I felt safe with just knowing that this was _a_ baby. Not Pete's, not Sheldon's, _my _kid. If I had taken a paternity test, my whole outlook on this would be so different."

Sylvia said nothing. Her lips formed a tight, red line. She ruffled her red, curly locks with her hand and ducked her head, muttering something to herself. It was Violet's turn to grow suspicious. She knew that Sylvia had already formed an opinion, and seeing as she was keeping it to herself, Violet had an inkling that she wasn't going to like it.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing," Sylvia sing-songed, her eyes wandering around the room over-dramatically. "I just think that it was awfully selfish of you to just shut both men out like that. I mean, you were outnumbered, Violet. Couldn't you have just put yourself aside for one minute and save one of those poor souls the trouble of doting on you for a child that might not even belong to them?"

Violet's hand automatically flew back to her stomach, as if to protect her unborn child from the beast sitting across from them. Her jaw clenched.

"Okay, so Sheldon minded a little. And Pete…well…it's different with Pete," she said, keeping her voice leveled. Sylvia's petrifying face made it hard to concentrate on staying calm.

"I still can't believe this whole thing was a mistake. I thought you had more responsibility than that." She bent over to grab something in her purse, making a 'tsk, tsk' sound. Violet sighed.

"Look, Sylvia, I don't know why you're here, and I don't know what you want, but I can do this...without the commentary. Cooper is helping me out…"

"He's not one of the fathers you mentioned, Sweethart," Sylvia ridiculed. Violet hated when she used names like that. It made Sylvia seem like her mother, even though she could have very well passed as that. Still, to see all of these diners around her, their eyes far more judging that Sylvia's words, angered her and hurt her in ways unimaginable.

"He's my best friend," Violet complied. Sylvia chuckled. The sound it resonated was far from happy.

"Do you have _any _girlfriends?"

Violet rolled her eyes, grateful that whatever Sylvia was searching for was taking her so long to pop back up. "Yeah, but…"

"Can't they help you out?"

"With or without Coop, I'm doing a _decent _job by myself with this, Sylvia!" Violet exclaimed is disbelief. Sylvia appeared again, a huge grin on her face and nothing in her hands.

"Than it's settled!" Sylvia cheered, making absolutely no sense at all. Violet eyed her older sister in confusion.

"Huh?"

"What time do you usually get home from work? I'll be there, ready to unpack my stuff! Oh, and where's your address?" She pulled out what she had been looking for, a pen and paper, and darted an excited glance at the younger sister who was currently paralyzed in shock.

"You're moving in with me?" Violet choked out after a moment of awkward silence. Oh, the waitress at table three sure had something to talk to her little waiting pals tonight, that was for sure. Sylvia smacked Violet on the forearm playfully and laughed like a hyena.

"Of course, Silly! A _decent _job isn't enough to raise a baby, let alone one without a father! You need to make some major life-style changes, Honey, if you're going to have a child of your own soon, and who better than your older sister to help you out? Oh, this is going to be great! Just like old times, right?"

Violet wanted to say no so badly. But how? Sylvia had been her motherly figure since she was eleven years old, and being a mother was all Sylvia knew. Surely, her sister would hold those years against her. And that face…Violet winced. Her sister was the happiest she had been since their mom died. She would hate to destroy that happiness. Knowing Sylvia, she was so proactive as to already have her suitcases in her trunk and have her family informed of her whereabouts. The point was, as Cooper would say, 'moot'.

Violet laughed nervously. "Yeah, Syl, just like old times."

Sylvia uproared in a giddy cheer just as a plate of food was placed in front of her. Violet shoved the plate to the side, knowing she would need to save her appetite for everything that was in store.

_I just want you to know.  
I want you to know.  
All that I have is all that I forgot to say  
I want you to know.  
I didn't go.  
All that I have is all that made you run away._

**Hey guys! Now here's a weird karma thing...I was going to post this up 2 days ago, I read it over for errors and everything, but I ran out of time before I retired to bed for the night. The whole time I was reading, though, I found myself really not liking Sylvia. I mean, I know I created her and all that, but Violet's a grown woman who could most likely take care of herself and her child and do a decent job at it. Sylvia's attitude, which is based off of many people I know, irked me a bit. I thought, "Oh well. She's just a character. I'll post this tomorrow."**

**That was before I had to take home an electronic baby simulator for a school project the next day....**

**Having to carry that thing around all day and worry about it really gave me a wake-up call and new understanding of what Violet (and every other new mother, for that matter) is going to have to go through. If I were Violet, I'd be grabbing for my sister's hand, judgemental or not, and be begging for help. Naturally, baby Anthony Roger (totally named after Anthony Rapp and Roger from RENT) prevented me from even getting the time to pee without having to take care of him. Karma sucks.**

**So I'm sleep-deprived, hot (it's almost 90 degrees out today), so looking forward to Memorial Day Weekend, and in a desperate need of some reviews! Let me know about your take on Sylvia...because you'll be seeing a whole lot more of her! Thanks again, you guys! Enjoy the long weekend for those celebrating Memorial Day!**

**-ILoVeWicked**


	7. Take It Like a Man

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Take It Like a Man**

_I know you're scared  
Nevertheless  
Think of the people you want to impress  
Swallow your pride for me  
Just nod yes  
And prepare  
Cause something's in the air_

COOPER

Cooper could barely understand what had provoked Dell to rant about the personal lives of his friends when _he _was clearly the one with problems. Now, as Charlotte King stood in front of him, he couldn't help feel embarrassed, thinking of Dell's words. Surely, he couldn't let the immature nothings of a twenty-three year old have such a great effect on his relationship.

He looked up into Charlotte's sharp, grey eyes and winced. He supposed those lies _could _affect his relationship, after all. Though he could only see her torso from his position in his desk, he could see that she had caught the gesture and did not like it.

"You got a problem, Coop?" Charlotte spat, her accent was thicker with anger, if possible. Cooper shook his head. He was fairly certain that she did not believe him in the slightest.

"It's not you," Cooper managed. "It's just…Dell said…" He ran a hand over his tired face. "Do you think we…well, you know…like bunnies?" Charlotte raised a thin blonde eyebrow and her nose curved upward.

"You're not making any sense," she pointed out as she sat across from him, flinging their breakfast onto his desk.

Cooper felt his face grow redder with even more embarrassment. He had completely forgotten about the engagement. He let his eyes wander to the clock. Jess was scheduled to meet with him and Violet in fifteen minutes. Cooper didn't dare think to mention his appointment with the other girls, as Charlotte was one to get jealous easily, especially when it came to his best friend.

"Are we…overly enthusiastic about our relationship…in bed?" Cooper clarified, stammering and humiliated. He felt like crawling into a hole and staying there for a very long time.

Charlotte mouth almost spurted with coffee, her eyes growing wide with embarrassment of her own. Cooper considered he and Charlotte do be more of a 'do' and not a 'speak' couple. They had never actually discussed their relationship…in _or _out of bed. He was positive that she was taken aback, and he was fully expecting a coffee shower in just a few moments.

"What in the name of God made you think about _that_?" she hissed, gazing over her shoulder and out the open door of his office to see if anyone was listening in. Judging by the way the skin on her face tugged tightly around her jaw, Cooper could tell that she was very flustered and angry. Somehow, under the circumstances, he still found her adorable. Cooper shrugged innocently.

"You haven't seen the Youtube? It's pretty famous," Cooper said, relaxing a little as he placed the blame on Dell. Charlotte still looked dazed and confused. Her jaw set even firmer as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him through narrow eyes.

"I'm a doctor, Cooper. I don't have time to watch Youtube videos." Cooper felt an ache in his chest over how oblivious Charlotte was to the painful things Dell had said about them, about her. If she was this embarrassed by just talking to Cooper about their relationship, he couldn't imagine what her reaction would be when she discovered that millions of people were also talking about it.

He studied her flawless face: tight pink lips, puzzled grey eyes that still always managed to contain a twinge of anger, sharp, distinct cheek and jaw bones, and a stern grimace. She may have not looked like it, but Cooper knew her well enough to know that behind the hard face, there was a woman who went to great lengths to prepare breakfast for the two of them, and a woman who could break more easily than people believed. He couldn't do that to her, not now, when things with them were going smoothly. Cooper decided to drop the Dell subject overall.

"Alright…enough about that. Violet just mentioned something about Pete and the patient's mother this morning and it made me think of you and I, that's all. There was no Youtube. Let's dig in," he lied quickly, grabbing and biting into an egg sandwich. Charlotte eyed him suspiciously for a moment before hesitantly reaching forward and joining him.

PETE

"Look, Doctor Pete! I'm a walrus!" Ben giggled, two straws up his nose. Lisa blushed and patted the top of Ben's head softly.

"Alright, Sea Lion, calm down," she reprimanded him gently. Ben pouted as he pulled the contaminated straws from his nose.

"Walrus," he corrected her. Pete simply smiled. The mother-son relationship between Lisa and her son was a special one. When Lisa had brought Ben, under the nasty spell of an allergic reaction, into the practice, there was without a doubt the worry of losing her son in her features. When Ben was scared, she was scared, and when Ben was happy, she was happy. There was undeniable love among them, despite all they had been through.

As he sat at the booth of a pizzeria, beside Ben and across from Lisa, he couldn't help but wonder what caused her husband to divorce her. Like any man who had gotten himself out of his own nasty marriage eight years ago, Pete could only assume that she was touchy with the subject. He had always meant to leave Anna. She was cold, cruel, self-centered smoker who hated everything and everyone. Lisa was nowhere near Anna, and Pete suddenly felt himself pitying the poor man who had been dumb enough to let her go.

Now _he _had her. And he wasn't about to let another good woman get away again.

Lisa caught him staring and grinned at him, causing Pete to blush and bore a hole through his full plate of food. He had been so busy admiring her, he had forgotten to eat. He could hear Lisa giggle flirtatiously across from him, and he felt his chest literally begin to ache from the flutter of excitement his heart gave when she did so.

"Mommy?" Ben asked, breaking the evident silence between the three of them, "Can I go pick out a cookie? They look _really_ yummy…"

Ben started batting his long, dark eyelashes and his lower lip began jutting out. His face now twisted into a persuasive pout, Ben leaned against his mother and looked up at her with longing eyes. Lisa chuckled, a deep, genuine, throaty laugh, and almost sent Pete spiraling to the floor. He looked away, trying to catch his breath.

He didn't understand that love could be so satisfyingly painful. He had never felt this way about a woman, not Meg, not Anna, not Addison, not even…

Well, Violet was different.

Lisa, still laughing, ruffled her son's curly locks and nodded as she handed him three dollar bills. "Go ahead, Buddy." Ben's face lit up at the acceptance and his future treat, and before Pete could blink, the boy was absent. Lisa laughed after him quietly before turning back to Pete.

"You okay?" she asked, her face twisting into school counselor mode. The way she said it almost made her sound like…

Pete nodded quickly, taking a sip of water to try to calm his racing pulse. His head spun with dizziness just when he looked into her concerned green eyes. He breathed out, which caused Lisa to sigh in relief.

"Oh, geez, you had me worried there," she said, flustered. Pete held his breath again to reach across the table and grab her hand. It was noble of him, since he was pretty certain that just touching her would make him pass out. It was surprisingly calming, having Lisa's hand in his own.

"I—I think you and I should go out alone again tonight," Pete said lowly, thoughts of the night's events already flooding his mind. "After you drop Ben off at his Dad's." Lisa immediately lit up.

He was not sure whether or not she was taking this newfound feeling as seriously as he was. She had just been broken from a divorce, which she only referred to as 'nasty', and according to Ben, he was the first guy she had dated since. Whether or not her heart was causing her breathing troubles too, he did not know. And, being a coward, he feared he never would know.

He didn't want to press her, to make her talk about anything that would make her lapse into darkness. He knew every woman had that weak spot, that Achilles' heel, and behind the beauty and charisma of Lisa King, an aching heart that had been left behind by someone she loved, someone she trusted, laid.

Lisa nodded eagerly, "Yeah, I'd like that."

He didn't know so much about her, and yet, how would she feel if she knew that the tables could easily be turned? Lisa was clueless that he was potentially about to have a Ben of his own, his own little walrus to laugh at, and she was clueless of the woman who carried that potential walrus.

Ben returned with his cookie, and Pete returned to _his _dark spot.

DELL

"Good morning, Mrs. Grady," Dell chirped, masking any tiredness or signs of the horrible hangover he was going through.

He approached the tall, blonde woman. Mrs. Grady looked to be about in her thirties. After years of trying to conceive a child with her husband, Mrs. Grady found herself pregnant just before she and her husband gave up. With the help of each doctor at their practice—Pete's herbal medicines, Sam's motivational love talks, Violet's therapy sessions, Cooper's pediatric advice, and Naomi's magical fertility talents—they had all created a baby.

Dell had just been working at his job at Oceanside for a year when the team had been able to get Mrs. Grady pregnant, and when he heard the joyous news, Dell had a hard time believing what had happened had to do with only medicine. He was certain it has a little extra something to do with the group effort of his fellow colleagues and a bit of faith from each of them that brought the miracle of a baby upon the Grady couple.

Dell could hardly wait until that little baby was placed in Mrs. Grady's arms, to see the faces that had always past by his desk solemnly as they left with another let down finally light up. He would always secretly whisper encouraging thoughts to them as they paid for yet another hopeless appointment. He knew he shouldn't have been doing it, being biased toward a certain couple, but the Gradys were people he looked up to. To Dell, the Gradys were the strongest couple he knew. They never let the stress of not being able to make a baby get to them or tear them apart. When Mr. Grady wasn't holding Mrs. Grady together, Mrs. Grady was keeping Mr. Grady from falling apart. Dell could think of no one better than the Gradys to share his own faith with.

He liked to think he had a little something to do with that baby. For the first time in a while, Dell smiled genuinely when Mrs. Grady rose.

"Doctor Montgomery is on a house call this morning, so I'll be doing your sonogram today," he said, trying his hardest to put profession before personal things. Mrs. Grady frowned.

"Oh." She peered over his shoulder subtly, and Dell caught the motion. "Are you sure she's not here?"

Dell chuckled softly. "Nope. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid," he said jokingly. Mrs. Grady's sharpened features and protective hand to her inflated stomach showed that she took it seriously.

"Oh, that's really a shame," she observed. It came off as an insult to Dell, though Mrs. Grady's timid voice indicated otherwise. To Dell, though, anything anyone said to try and help him came off as an insult lately.

"Mrs. Grady…?" Dell asked, his voice curving upward in confusion. She was such a bright lady, and to see her this dazed made Dell wonder if something was wrong. He jumped when her head snapped back around in his direction, her head shaking slightly and her hands, balled in fists, started trembling.

"Dell, as much as I would love for you to take care of me, and I really would, I…" she paused for a moment to gaze at him, as if searching for the right words. "I just…I can't trust you anymore, Dell."

Dell caught his jaw, the top row of his teeth scraping against the bottom row, before it could drop. Dell knew that he was no Addison Montgomery, but he knew for a fact that he was trustworthy. Who was the one who kept Betsy a secret? Who was the one who didn't utter a word about Violet's baby? Who was the one who kept the moment in the 'Dell Vault' for Addison and Pete when he caught them in the exam room? He was trustworthy.

"Mrs. Grady, I don't understand. You can trust me. You know that," Dell persisted, but Mrs. Grady would hear none of it. She was already halfway to the elevator. Mrs. Grady sighed, a sound audible enough for Dell to hear, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Her other arm was wrapped tightly around her stomach.

"I work at an office, Dell. The people there get bored, and sometimes, they watch Youtube videos to pass the time."

Dell refused to believe that this rejection was over a video. "Mrs. Grady…I still don't understand…"

She shook her head, sandy locks bouncing on her shoulders. "Were you the one who made that video, or not?" she asked. Her voice was strained, low, and shaky. She looked terrified to be near him, to be touching him. Dell felt himself tense up. He could hardly understand why this woman, the first miracle of the practice that he had experienced, was doing this to him when he had done nothing wrong to her. He took a step back and shrugged, still confused.

"Mrs. Grady, I have no idea what you're talking about…"

The woman looked disgusted to be near him as he stepped toward her again. Her head was now shaking wildly, her eyes wide and horror-stricken as she backtracked to the open elevator. Her clammy hand slammed down on the button, her eyes never unlocking from Dell's. For a moment, he saw the distrust in her stare.

Dell tried to chase after her. "Mrs. Grady!"

The last thing he saw of the woman he had hoped and prayed for was her head, still shaking as if she had no control over her neck. "I'm sorry, Dell," she whispered miserably.

Dell stood just inches from the elevator door, fighting the tears at bay. He knew that the scene between him and Mrs. Grady had attracted the attention of all in the room, and he knew it had to take it like a man and continue with his day, no matter how hard of a slap in the face Mrs. Grady's comments were.

"Excuse me?" a soprano voice asked from behind him. Dell spun around to come face to face with a young woman. She appeared to be about his age, with warm caramel eyes and straight, shoulder length auburn hair. Her features were soft, accented with just enough make-up to bring out the beauty in her freckly face. She wore a tight green sweater and jeans, looking like the All-American girl with a matching green headband.

"I…um…I couldn't help but overhear," she said, her voice floating in the air around him and drawing him in toward her more. "Doctor Montgomery's out today?"

Dell opened his mouth, but when no sound came from his dry throat, he simply nodded. She smiled kindly, revealing a set of perfectly aligned teeth. Dell mentally pinched himself, unsure if he was dreaming or still in a hung-over haze.

"Well, you look like you could use a patient, and I just so happen to be next in line on Doctor Montgomery's agenda," she explained sweetly. Dell continued to stand and stare at her, feeling the air pass through his gaping, dehydrated lips. She extended her hand towards him in a friendly gesture.

"I'm Layla," she said, her voice as sweet as honey. Dell smiled, found his voice as he cleared his throat, and was just about to return the gesture when a little girl, same freckles, auburn hair and caramel eyes, came running up to Layla and wrapped her arms around her one leg. The younger girl seemed to be the same age as Betsy. It didn't take much for Dell to put the puzzle pieces together.

"Mommy!" she shouted, catching Dell's immediate attention. Layla patted the little girl's head and smiled. She lifted the giggling little girl, with the same soprano voice as her mother, onto her hip. Her head turned up toward Dell, biting her lip.

"And this is my daughter, Kyleigh."

_Here you'll become what you're supposed to be  
You think you can't but you can.  
Think of the guy you want most to be.  
Here's your chance to make it  
So take it like a man._

**Yeah, so I thought, Dell can be all drugged up and crazy as he wants to be in this fic, but he deserves himself a lady friend! Sorry about throwing out all these OCs and kind of straying too far away from the actual plot line of the show, but my mind just started wandering until I realized that I had gone too far. (I guess that's why it's Fan_Fiction_, right?) I'll do my best to get back on track...that is unless, of course, you're enjoying this as it is... ;) Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing and just being awesome! Keep it up!**

**-ILoVeWicked**


	8. Hanging On

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

**Hanging On**

_I've had a bad day  
And nothing ever seems to go my way  
I've got a heartache  
Don't wanna think about it  
And every time I try to smile, I cry, so  
I'll just hide my face  
Get out of my way  
Don't wanna talk about it  
And I'll be fine  
I just need some time_

DELL

He figured it was irony. Really, really bad irony. What were the chances of a beautiful girl his age with a daughter would show up and start flirting with him just a few days after his own ex-girlfriend and daughter disappeared? Irony worked in funny ways. As he squirted petroleum jelly onto Layla's flat abdomen and Kyleigh played on the floor with a doll, he couldn't help but wonder if what he was doing, giving into her hormone-induced flirting with him when she obviously had a husband or boyfriend, was wrong.

Layla inhaled quickly as the cool gel came into contact with her skin. "Oh, that's cold." She peered up at him, her liquid eyes burning holes of inferno right through him. "I haven't done this in…gosh…forever."

Her gaze tore away from Dell to look at her daughter, who was perfectly content with sitting on the floor and playing with her Barbie while she sucked on a blue raspberry lollipop. In some ways, she reminded Dell of Betsy. Dell winced. Just thinking about his baby girl was hard enough. He couldn't look at Kyleigh for long durations of time without her face becoming the mirage of Betsy and paining him. Layla luckily did not seem to notice his occasional cringing back at the sight of her daughter.

Kyleigh detected the stares of both adults and showed a big, cerulean-toothed smile. Dell smiled back until Kyleigh's face was morphed into the face of a familiar little girl. Dell averted his eyes back to the screen beside him, to avoid the petrifying stares of both girls.

"It's great, though, being a mom," Layla said finally. Dell was pretending not to notice her. His face was pinched, staring at the screen so intently either could short circuit. Dell nodded mechanically.

"Yeah, it is."

She seemed taken aback. "You have a kid too?"

Dell swallowed the heavy lump that had built up in his throat and nodded. He regretted telling her this information, because he knew that he would eventually have to elaborate. In the short time of knowing her, Dell was already sure that Layla was far more open that Heather had ever been about children.

Yet somehow, as much pain as it caused him, he almost _wanted_ to tell Layla about Betsy. Deep down, he figured that she would understand better than Naomi or Sam, who both had each other and Maya safe and sound.

"Yup, a daughter."

Layla seemed to be experiencing the same feeling. If possible, her shimmering eyes turned up another notch. "Aww! What's her name?"

"Betsy."

"So cute! How old is she?"

"She'll be seven in a few weeks," Dell answered, tears clouding his vision. He had been to every one of Betsy's birthdays. It was the one day that was centred around her, the one day where both her parents acted sane, and he knew how much her birthday meant to his daughter. Not for the presents, not for the party, but for the attention and love from her heroes...that mattered most to Betsy. He glanced at Layla and Kyleigh's high-quality clothes and became fairly certain that this little girl and his little girl were not similar in that way.

Layla clapped her hands together. Laying on her back, her smile seemed wider from Dell's angle. "That's adorable, really," she told him. Dell simply nodded in response. Betsy's birthday had taken a great toll on him.

When he returned to his 'Thinker' pose on the stool as he watched the screen ferociously, Layla cleared her throat.

"Kyleigh's six too," she stated. Still, Dell said nothing. His finger slammed down on the mouse as he clicked furiously at pointless icons on the screen. He wished she would stop talking, or at least start talking about something else. He needed something to take his anger—and his pain—away.

"I thought I'd look so stupid, being twenty-three and coming in here with my kid. I'm new to the whole private practice thing, so I wasn't sure how sophisticated everything was going to be. But I'm grateful you're in my boat too…" Dell winced, and she paused, her eyes protruding from their sockets.

"I didn't mean it like that. I love Kyleigh, I really do, but you know…having a baby at seventeen wasn't a part of my plan. You get it? I mean, you have so much potential, so much opportunity when you're seventeen, and to have it taken away…"

Dell held up his hand grimly. "I get it."

He got it more than she understood. Long before Betsy had even been conceived, his opportunity had been taken from him. Layla smiled weakly.

"God, high school before Ky was different…head cheerleader, partying without a care, stressing only over stupid tests and projects and crushes, and the perfect boyfriend. The baby took me and Jake completely off guard."

"Jake is your boyfriend," Dell stated, more to himself than Layla, and tried to mask his disappointment.

"_Ex-_boyfriend," Layla corrected him. Dell was unsure how she'd react to a fist pump in the air, so he kept his rejoicing on the inside. "But he's sweet, he's great. He still helps out with Kyleigh as much as he can. He got a full scholarship to Notre Dame for football, and I suck at school; there was no way I could get into college, so he flies out as much as he can. And he's pretty much amazing at _everything. _Captain of the football team _and _straight A's. Not to mention he's _so _handsome!"

He was grateful that she had provided him with a distraction, though talking about her ex-boyfriend and the father of her child was far from an appropriate topic choice to talk about in front of a man you were flirting with. The way she described Jake led Dell to believe that Layla was not entirely over him. Layla was twenty-three, still young, and she had a child, she still had some grasping to do on 'right and wrong'.

Dell swayed in his chair. "So…" he began, his eyes looming over the ultrasound screen. "Is Jake the father of this baby?" He could feel Layla's stomach muscles tensing under the wand.

"What?!" she screeched. Kyleigh and Dell both jumped.

Dell smiled, soft enough to hide his dismay that Jake had everything he could have wanted: a perfect girlfriend, a beautiful little girl, a stable education and career path, and people respecting him. "Congrats, Layla, you're having another baby."

She flew up, knocking the wand from his hand and splattering blue petroleum jelly on the floor. He was confused; she _had _come here asking for an ultrasound, hadn't she? Her eyes, wide with horror, red, tear stained cheeks, and convulsing body gave him mixed signals.

For a moment, he saw the shaking head of Mrs. Grady in the back of his mind. Then, the daydream flashed to Violet and her panic attack after he had shown Violet her baby. What was it with him and sonograms?

"No!" Layla cried, dropping to the floor and bending over. "NO!"

COOPER

"Doctor Freedman!" Jessica groaned. "Remind me again exactly _why_ we're doing this?"

Cooper grabbed a cheese puff and popped it into his mouth. "Because," he informed the young girl sitting across from him, "your mom is worried about you." Jess rolled her eyes.

"My mom is always worried about me, whether or not it has anything to do with my emotional state of being. Please, just don't make me do this. I'm _fine_! I don't need therapy!"

Cooper smirked at the little girl's—well, young woman's—pleas and grabbed another cheese puff. He had set the buffet of junk food out for Jess' sake, to make her feel more comfortable in therapy. Clearly, as he ate all the fats and sugars himself while Jessica glared at him, the notion was doing neither of them any good.

"And waste all of your mother's money?" Cooper asked, blinking innocently. Jess snorted at the gag her paediatrician was pulling off and finally helped herself to a handful of cheese puffs. Cooper sighed to himself with relief. At least she was starting to warm up.

"It was her fault. I told her I didn't need this," she glared down at her wristwatch impatiently and began tapping her foot. Cooper finally saw a fourteen-year-old in Jess and cracked a wide-open grin. Jess saw this and frowned.

Cooper sighed heavily, mocking the girl, and leaned forward. In many ways, she was like a younger version of Charlotte. Minus the physical features and the lack of an accent, her attitude and spunk were spot-on. It made Cooper fight back another smile as he thought of fourteen-year-old Charlotte.

"Why are you making such a big deal out of this? You're 'real' on stage all the time, aren't you? Isn't therapy like acting without an audience?" Cooper inquired. Jess rolled her eyes.

"This is totally different. That's acting. This…it's embarrassing. What will my friends think if they knew I was in therapy?"

"Don't tell them. It's between you, me, Vi, and your mom."

"They'll start to wonder why I'm leaving school early every week. Everyone will start to wonder. And then they'll start making assumptions…"

"You should just tell them to mind their own business, then."

"I'm in middle school, Doctor Freedman. _No one _minds their own business."

"Look, Jess, Violet is a well-respected, well-grounded, psychiatrist, and…"

Their heated conversation, which was getting nowhere, was interrupted by that certain psychiatrist whizzing past both him and Jess, grumbling and huffing to herself. Jess stole a glimpse at the very-discombobulated Violet, looked back at Cooper, and raised an eyebrow. She was clearly amused.

"Well-grounded?" she mouthed. Checking to make sure Violet's back was turned, Cooper played a silent game of charades with Jess. He made wide, round, circular motions with his arms in his abdominal area and ran his finger down his face, indicating that Violet was pregnant and _very _emotional.

"Be nice," he mouthed back. Jess winked and Cooper cleared his throat, both biting back giggles. Violet's head whipped up, her face flushing a deeper red than it had been when she had entered.

"Omigod," she muttered under her breath. Her mouth ajar, Violet's arms flailed around nervously as she searched for something to say. "I—I'm sorry I'm late. I j—just…"

Cooper caught the teary edge in her voice. He knew it would humiliate her for Jess to see her like this. Quickly, he grabbed a cheese puff and chucked in his best friend's direction. Violet looked at him as if he had three noses as the puff fell just inches from her feet. Cooper quite honestly had no idea how she would react to his spontaneous snack food throwing in her office, but his goal was to make her smile. After an initial moment of shock from his best friend, he had reached his goal.

"Hey, Jessica, I'm Doctor Violet Turner," she said, snapping into therapist mode. Cooper may have not understood much about acting, but he knew for a fact that he didn't need to be Patti LuPone to know that something was bothering Violet. Being as 'real' as he had described earlier, Violet held out her hand toward the younger girl and looked as though nothing was bothering her. Jess looked at her skeptically for a moment before shaking her hand. To anyone but each other, Cooper and Violet were pretty much considered basket cases.

Violet still refused to join them at eye level, standing with her arms folded across her chest and her eyes running up and down Jess' body. Cooper assumed it was to see any possible sign of sleep deprivation. Jess' eyes fell to the floor, embarrassed by the silent conversation Violet was having with herself while she stared at her.

"Look," Violet whispered, her voice barely audible. "I know you don't want to do this." Jess nodded to herself as she picked at the edge of her chair. Cooper stared at the ground himself.

"I mean, you think it's ridiculous, right? You're growing up, you think you should be making your own decisions…" Violet grumbled. Jess looked back up at the older woman and nodded, half confused that the therapist would be siding with her so quickly. Cooper's head shot up as well, catching that Violet's words had double meanings.

"But you love your mom, right?" Violet asked sympathetically. Jess nodded softly. The mood of Jess and the feeling in the air around them had changed completely.

"And you would want her to be happy," Violet stated, a far away look now forming in her eyes. Jess nodded again.

Violet looked back into at Jess. "Then this moving—I mean, therapy, is something you have to do to make her happy. It's nothing permanent, just until she's content. It may drive you _insane_, but it's what you do for love."

Cooper was silent, not sure what either girl would do. They omitted his presence completely, staring at each other. He supposed it was some kind of secret girl language that he was expected to but would never understand. Even Charlotte gave him that look, just assuming he would know what was exactly on her mind. Finally, Jess sighed and began spewing her words like a shaken soda can that had been opened.

"I don't get it. I'm fine all day, but there's something about when I go to sleep. I feel like my heart's accelerating, and my head starts pounding. Every once in a while, I feel a pain or an itch somewhere on my body and I keep thinking about it until I drive myself to the point where I think I'm going to die. And then I wake up my mom in the middle of the night—just for a confirmation; it bugs her so much—and even after I know, I still can't bring myself to fall back asleep. Sometimes I take a Tylenol to calm me down, but then I worry about overdosing. It's horrible, it drives me crazy, and I just don't get it. School is getting tougher and tougher, and I know my mom doesn't have an easy job. We both need our sleep."

Violet's brow was crinkled as she nodded along to bits and pieces of Jess' story. Cooper was relieved to know that Leah and Jess were on the same page with the situation.

Violet stood, unmoving for another long moment before she cleared her throat and started talking again.

"So, let's talk about your family…"

As a doctor, Cooper knew his way around little tricks and signals in order for another doctor to tell him that something was wrong without the patient's knowledge.

Violet's gaze caught his for a fraction of a second and the corner of her lip twitched. Cooper, immediately breaking that secret Morse code, stole a gaze at Jess. She looked healthy enough, the same as she had always been.

But Violet was the professional in the mental category, this was her turf. And something, though he had no idea what, was terribly wrong with this little girl.

_I'm hanging on today  
And nothing's gonna stop me, anyway  
I'm holding on, I'm strong  
I'm the only one who can make it change  
I don't wanna fight  
Gotta live my life  
I'm gonna make it right  
I'm hanging on and nothing's gonna stop me, anyway_

**DUN DUN DUN... So, a lot is starting to heat up at OWC. What's wrong with both Layla and Jess? Guess all you want, but my lips are sealed ;) Also, I'm sorry I haven't been consistent with my characters and have been focusing on some story lines more than others. But never fear! To make up for it, I have written an entire chapter dedicated to Addison and Noah (and Morgan...) for all you fans of that ship! Stay tuned...school is winding down, so I should have more free time soon. Thanks for reading and reviewing everyone! Keep it up!**

**-ILoVeWicked**


	9. Alone

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Alone**

_I hear the ticking of the clock  
__I'm lying here the room's pitch dark  
__I wonder where you are tonight  
__No answer on the telephone  
__And the night goes by so very slow  
__Oh, I hope that it won't end, though  
__Alone_

ADDISON

Each step she took, each breath she inhaled in Noah's presence was carefully thought out and afterward regretted. It was something about him that had her always second guessing. For someone so sure of herself and her choices in life, Addison was frightened. Noah, who seemed to feel the exact opposite of how she felt, was doing enough talking for the both of them.

"She's alright, everything's fine. You know, Morgan's just paranoid; she doesn't want to lose another baby." Noah continued beaming through his words. Addison noticed how he only included Morgan in his description and swallowed the huge lump in her throat, wincing as it _clunked _in the bottom of her stomach. Out of nowhere, he cut her off halfway to the stairs.

"I stayed home today," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I stayed home because I knew you would come."

Addison found it within herself to speak past her dehydrated lips. "You did?" It was a strange, yet flattering gesture. She remembered how her heart used to soar whenever Derek would stay home from his busy days at work to devote his time to her. Noah nodded subtlety.

"You're too good of a doctor to abandon a patient, no matter what it would cost," Noah continued, his eyes radiating with intensity. Addison gulped again, searching for words that would not come out as mush.

"So you're saying…?"

"I'm saying that I stayed for _you_, Addison. What happened the other night doesn't matter, because what I felt while I was kissing you…it was so real, so…right, what Morgan and I have been lacking long before I ever met you! Don't you see? That kiss was a sign! We were meant to be together!"

His last statement crossed the line for her. As if she had been recharged, Addison snapped her head up and glared at the man with a different intensity.

"We can't do this, not now," Addison hissed as quietly as possible. The _last _thing Morgan needed was to be left out of another secret. "Morgan, _your wife_, is waiting upstairs. She's having _your _baby, and _you_ should care."

Noah looked stunned. Apparently, Addison assumed, he was convinced that he had the cat in the bag with 'we were meant to be together'.

But it wasn't like that. She wasn't going to be known as the woman who cheated and slept around. More importantly, she wasn't about to live with the impending guilt falling in love with Noah would put on her. How could she possibly go on and live happily ever after with Noah when the image of Morgan raising her child, the son or daughter of the man she loved, all alone? What good-hearted person would stoop to that level? Certainly not _her_.

So, the only way to prevent that from happening was denial. Addison had hypothesized that if she turned him away enough, he would just stop trying. It had worked with Mark, it had worked with Alex, and it had worked with just about every other man she wanted out of her life, including her own father.

She looked back into Noah's dark eyes and sighed, knowing that she would need _a lot _of denial to keep him away. She began stomping up the stairs, pushing past his strong arm, but Noah was faster than she was on carpet and without heels. He cut her off again.

"May I just add that you kissed me back? You think I'm the bad guy, you think I'm at fault here," he told her. His face finally twinged with the hurt that she had expected to see from the first place. "I may have kissed you, but _you _kissed _me _back."

Noah's pager began beeping wildly. He groaned to himself—Addison was still stunned he had more to say. Was he hearing himself, or was she just being the _only _rational one in the situation? It was his turn to push past her, stomping down the steps, each creating its own echoing _thud_. The empty space around her seemed to be pressurizing upon her as she watched him grab for his coat.

"I thought you had the day off," Addison observed. Noah did not so much as glance her way.

"Morgan!" He called up the stairs, past Addison. "I've got a code red! Do you mind if I leave you alone with Doctor Montgomery?" She grimaced when he used her professional name.

There was a long, drawn out silence from Morgan's room. Addison knew she was looking forward to her day with her husband, and she knew how it felt to have that day taken away. "Um…yeah. That's cool," Morgan lied, the breezy tone in her voice clearly fake. Noah was so preoccupied with his jacket that he didn't even notice it. "C'mon up, Doctor Montgomery."

Noah slammed the door behind him as soon as the coast was clear.

_PRIVATE PRACTICE_

Morgan jumped back when Addison held out the needle, her daily injection in order to keep her body up and running while she lay in bed. The pregnant woman shuddered.

"Ugh, I _hate _needles!" she whined with a disgusted pout that Addison was positive she would never use when Noah had to give her the injection. "Three things I hate most: sharks, needles, and being alone."

Addison's jaw clenched as she prepared the syringe. Little Morgan knew was that she could very well be alone. She shook her head, ridding it of any Noah-oriented thoughts.

_Denial, Addison, _she reminded herself.

She didn't mean it as the thought of Noah leaving Morgan and sweeping Addison off of her feet, her thought wasn't like that at all. What she meant was that—she thought about Noah's statement before on the staircase, clearly not doing a good job of not thinking about him—she had been alone for a long time. Noah had been physically there for his wife, of course, but he had mentioned that there was no spark.

But there _had _been a spark between him and her…

Addison shook her head again, pretending to concentrate on the syringe, as if she hadn't done this procedure to women on bed rest almost every other day. She returned to the alone thought. After all, wasn't everyone alone?

Addison pondered the reflection. There were Sam and Naomi. She was testing her oats all over the freaking place, and Sam was doing his best to find a partner of his own, but still, they were all alone. Dell, without Heather and Betsy, was left floundering. Cooper and Charlotte were an interesting duo, one that Addison only gave a short duration to last. Defying her beliefs, they were wrecks without each other. Violet and Pete were left fending for themselves throughout their whole pregnancy mess. And then there was her. She supposed everyone was alone to some extent.

Her mind finally snapped back to where she actually was, in Noah's bedroom (there had to be some rule against _that_, right?), Morgan waiting up at her expectantly to say something.

"You know what always helps me take my mind off of something I don't like?" Addison said as she assisted Morgan in rolling onto her side. Morgan groaned and huffed and puffed theatrically, making rolling over a big show. She was willing to do anything to avoid being pricked by that needle, Addison decided.

Addison finally allowed herself to smile. She liked Morgan, she really did. She was sweet, funny, and highly optimistic. Morgan was easy to talk to, a good friend. Addison couldn't understand why God, Fate, and Mother Nature had to personally victimize her. Weren't you supposed to hate the wife of the man you were committing adultery with?

Addison stopped herself there. She was _not _an adulterer. It had become a daily routine of reminding herself that.

"What?" Morgan asked, fully interested. Addison chewed on the inside of her cheek. She wished that she was at least half-as committed to this conversation as the other woman was. It only put Addison in her mental dark light again. Noah had been wrong when he accused her of labeling him 'The Bad Guy'. The whole time, she had seen herself as the predator; even when she had done nothing wrong, she would always be 'The Bad Guy'. Morgan's smile softened her up a little.

"I think about the stuff I _do _like," Addison quipped. She had barely been able to apply her own principal to her life, especially when the one thing that she _could _think about was something she thoroughly enjoyed. Morgan's face muscles expanded into a bigger smile.

"That's good! I like that!" She cheered. "Let's see…what do I like…?"

_Please don't say it…_Addison prayed. _Please, please, don't say it…_

"Noah makes me the happiest person in the world. Just seeing his face…which is rare…makes my day," Morgan said dreamily, causing Addison to cringe and curse to herself. Morgan's hand fell on her swollen belly. "And the baby. This baby is the last bit of hope me and Noah have."

"Hmm?" Addison asked, her eyebrow raising. Maybe Morgan wasn't as oblivious to her marital problems as Noah had thought she had been.

"Noah and I haven't been going very strong, especially in the past few years. He just came home from work one day, and he was…I dunno…different. And he became more and more distant until we just completely broke apart. We used to laugh together, cry together, talk together…to tell each other everything! Now, it's as if he's got some big secret…"

Addison winced as Morgan trailed off and hit the nail directly on the (red)head.

"But, yeah, with every miscarriage it got worse. When I told him about the baby, he was happy for the first time in forever! For a moment, I saw the same Noah I fell in love with." She began rubbing soothing circles on her stomach. "This little kid's the only thing holding us together, and losing him would definitely seal the deal on our broken relationship."

Morgan was suddenly tearful, sobbing into Addison's gloved hands. "I'm sorry you have to sit here and listen to me whine like this, but I don't want to lose him, Doctor Montgomery! He hasn't said a sentence to me since our latest scare, and I'm beginning to think that he doesn't even want the baby anymore…"

Addison was suddenly in Noah's bed, Morgan in her arms. She found the dark humor in the situation had to be that she was sitting on _Noah's _bed and holding _Noah's _estranged wife under circumstances that revolved around her. Addison swallowed the bile that was stinging the edges of her esophagus and shushed Morgan as calmly as she could without losing it herself.

She thought about Noah for a moment, his dark, thick hair and his deep eyes, and the way he looked at Morgan. The look was never filled with distain. He did not hate his wife. The look was rather that of guilt and pity for Morgan. Addison understood that he had once loved the woman in her arms very much, and she knew that he had probably hoped the baby would patch thing up, just as Morgan had. As much as they both wished they could look at each other with bright eyes and loopy smiles, Noah and Morgan both knew that certain look no longer existed between them. Addison felt herself stiffen when she thought of those bright eyes, that loopy smile…it was the face he made when he looked at _her_.

She knew what Morgan was thinking, and she was right. Addison longed for a way to tell Morgan the truth, that her husband was in love with someone else, but how could she? Morgan was her friend. It would be like telling Sam that naomi was in love with Duncan. Wrong, harmful, and dishonest all on the lowest level.

"Your husband's a good man," Addison whispered after some time to a hiccupping Morgan.

She tightened her grip on the woman, as if she were her safety blanket. No amount of denial could ever cover up what Addison felt for Noah, and it scared her to death as she realized it. "He's a good man, and I know he'll make the right choices."

Her pager beeped.

_Till now  
__I always got by on my own  
__I never really cared until I met you  
__And now it chills me to the bone  
__How do I get you alone?  
__How do I get you alone?_

**There ya go! An entire chappie dedicated to the unbelieveably complicated relationship that is the Addison-Noah-Morgan love triagle. It was a doozy to write, but once it was finished, I was pretty satisfied with the overall product. I actually like Morgan; I don't think she's a bad at all...she's just very, very naive and wants what is best for her child. And I don't think Noah hates her...he just fell out of love for her. Throw those together and mix in Addison's conflicting emotions and you've got yourself a writer with a headache! Hope you all liked it. Next chapter's got a lil' Sam/Naomi love 'n' war for ya'll...so stay tuned and keep reading/reviewing! It makes my day!**

**-ILoVeWicked**


	10. All That's Known

**Disclaimer: I do not own Private Practice.**

**All That's Known**

_All that's known  
In history, in science  
Overthrown  
At school, at home, by blind men  
You doubt them,  
And soon they bark and hound you  
Till everything you say is just another bad about you_

SAM

Sam groaned as he stood at the front desk and drummed his fingers, waiting for something to do. All day long, few patients had been lazily filtering in and out of the practice. Many were calling to cancel their appointments, and others just did not bother to show up. It was a slow day; and he knew exactly why. If something wasn't done about Dell, this would only be the first of many slow days.

He was standing at the front desk, but his mind was somewhere far away. Sam kept his eyes glued to the door of Naomi's lab. She had been going in there an awful lot lately, even before the Dell crisis came up. Sam's eyebrow cocked upward as he thought of Naomi, hard at work behind her microscope. The thought almost…turned him on…

"Dr. Samuel Bennet?" a familiar smooth, deep voice asked from behind him. Sam whirled around clumsily, knocking papers off the desk. Sam's mouth flew ajar when he saw Duncan standing before him, looking primmer than he ever had before, eyes downcast in Sam's directions. Two unfamiliar men in suits stood on either side of his friend, mirroring Duncan's expression.

Sam knew for a fact that Duncan always loved law, but he always loved to poke fun at it at the same time. The way they were standing was slightly comical.

"Duncan?" Sam asked, fighting back fits of laughter. "What's up?"

One of Duncan's wing men nudged him and murmured something. Sam could barely detect the blonde man's words; his lips were moving so fast and close to Duncan's ear that they barely moved. Duncan nodded.

"Dr. Bennett, all joking put aside, I'm afraid we're here on a more _serious _level," Duncan said icily, causing Sam to clamp his mouth shut and stop giggling like a school girl. Sam watched in horror as he realized that Duncan did look _serious _at the moment. There was no hint of a lawyer shark joke up Duncan's sleeve. Something in his friend's eyes told him to back off.

"You looking for Naomi?" Sam asked, his voice shaking slightly. He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, even though Naomi's lab was directly in front of him. He knew very well that if Naomi was aware of her boyfriend's arrival, she would have been asking Sam to help her out with some far-out girly favor that she for some reason couldn't ask Addison to help her with. He (and his, according to Naomi, 'chubby fingers') could not take another necklace clasping session. Duncan shook his head and blushed as the other two laywers stared at him in disapproval.

"My associates and I are here to speak with you on a different matter," Duncan explained in monotone. His eyes gazed warily at the grand total of three people in the waiting area. "Is there a place we could speak to you in private?"

It took a moment for this situation to sink in. This was his friend, and he was talking down to Sam as if he were any other client. Sam did not even recall mentioning a lawyer. What could have possibly led Duncan and his gang to the practice? The other man on Duncan's opposite side cleared his throat loudly, shaking Sam out of his dazed state.

Sam nervously scratched the back of his head. "Um, yeah...follow me," he mumbled. Though he would never admit it, because he was not a man who enjoyed expressing his feelings often, he was angry at his friend. Angry for unknown reasons, but angry nonetheless.

"Dr. Bennet," Duncan stated, his voice strictly professional. Sam clenched his fists. "I understand that today has probably been pretty quiet for a usually rowdy place, huh?" Sam nodded, unsure of how Duncan would assume that. Three people in the waiting room was not enough evidence for Duncan to accuse him of something.

Duncan sighed as he noticed that he was not getting through to Sam. "Are you familiar with the popular website, Youtube?"

Sam froze up. Apparently teenage boys with nothing better to do and fan girls who watched Jonas Brothers music videos all day weren't the _only _ones to catch Dell's small screen stint. Sam nodded stiffly, like an automaton. Behind his desk, opposite Duncan and his swarm, he felt cornered, helpless, and afraid.

"And are you aware that your interning midwife, William Parker, has posted an inappropriate video on that site?"

Sam nodded, knowing that speaking would be too much of a hazard at this point.

"Is Mr. Parker in knowledge of this?"

Sam was about to nod when he realized that Dell had never actually acted out since the night before. There was never any evil laughter or guilty looks. To Sam, it seemed as though Dell thought that this was just another day at the office. Sam opted for shrugging. Duncan smoothed out the cufflinks on his sleeves and straightened his posture. Sam could tell that Duncan was assuming that Sam was withholding information from him for Dell's sake.

"Did you consult Mr. Parker at all today about this incident?"

"No," Sam croaked. The chestnut-haired man on one side of Duncan snickered and rolled his eyes. Sam's fists clenched. He knew he wasn't the strongest, and he was occasionally on the wussier side, but he was a man, and men didn't get made fun of for being sissies. "No, I did not," he added, with a firm conviction in his voice.

Duncan's eyebrows rose. "Interesting." Sam rubbed a hand along his forehead, where beads of sweat were forming. This wasn't fair; Duncan knew that Sam freaked out under pressure.

"Duncan, what's done is done. It was his mistake."

Duncan leaned forward, laying his hands on Sam's desk. "But the practice is being looked at as a whole for this mistake. Dr. Bennett, does your daughter have a Facebook, MySpace, or an account on any popular website?"

Sam had no idea what half of those websites were, but nodded anyway, "I believe Nae said something about Maya having a Facebook, but what does that have to do with Youtube?"

"Dr. Bennett, did you know that nowadays, when employers choose applicants for college or jobs, the first thing they look at is the applicant's Facebook, MySpace, or Youtube account?"

Sam swallowed the lump on his throat and used the collar of his shirt to wipe the dripping perspiration from his head. "Um…no."

"If they find anything offensive, inappropriate, or vulgar on that person's page, they will not accept them. The same thing applies for practices that have been well on their feet for quite some time. One little slip-up about how you run the place and the things that go on between co-workers could cost the entire practice it's integrity, business, and rights."

Sam was speechless. He was ashamed of Dell, of course, because he felt his embarrassment. He did not expect the new-age technology to cause such trouble. His head felt like it had been engulfed by a fireplace.

"I—I don't understand," Sam whispered. Duncan frowned, and for a moment, Sam could see a hint of humanity in his friend's eyes.

"What I'm saying is that I am willing to defend you, Dr. Bennett, if you do not choose the easier option, which will not require any courtroom involvement," Duncan elaborated. Sam sighed as his friend played the 'courtroom card'. He was never going to be able to live his panic attack at the stand down. But he gave in anyway. Sam averted his eyes to the window beside him. It was bright and shiny, a beautiful day to be told that you were going to lose everything you and your best friend built together.

"What's the other option?" he asked. Duncan lowered his eyes and his already-deep voice.

"You need to get rid of Mr. Parker," he said.

Sam's eyes grew wide at the conclusion. In his angry rage at Dell, he would say good riddance. But Sam thought of the first time Dell had quit, and how horrible every one of the fifty replacements he and Naomi went through were in comparison to him. Dell may have been a pain, but like it or not, he was part of the family in Sam's eyes. The sudden paternal instinct inside of him sent his adrenaline flying as he roared at Duncan.

"I can't do that! He's just a kid! Kids make mistakes!"

Duncan looked taken aback. "I would think you would _want _him to go. After all, Mr. Parker himself _did _say, 'I'm not your 'effing' son so back the 'eff ' off!' And this 'kid's' mistake was inexcusable for such a well-known, well-respected, practice, if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you," Sam mumbled, so low that only one of the wingmen heard. Duncan looked down at Sam, as he had done all their lives, and slid his card forward.

"Give me a call if you change your mind, Dr. Bennett," he muttered.

"The lawyer act is getting redundant, Duncan, you can call me Sam."

"I would prefer to call you Dr. Bennett under these circumstances."

"I'll have to talk with Nae about this…" Sam muttered. "She'll want her say."

Duncan's eyes grew wide, and suddenly, he was at Sam's side. The wingmen were about to follow, but Duncan held them at the door with a raised palm. Looking back at Sam, he whispered, "I would also prefer if you left _my _name out of your conversation with Naomi."

Leaving, Duncan shut the door to Sam's office and to the friendship they had created.

NAOMI

Naomi found it very hard to concentrate to her latest project. She was performing an in-vitro fertilization, a procedure to routine to her she knew it like the back of her hand, and yet, she found herself huffing in frustration. How could she focus on conjoining an egg and a sperm together when she knew what she was doing would only turn against her?

It was not just the in-vitro. It was every marriage she fixed, every crisis she solved, and every baby she created at this practice that had been her demise. They all caught Bill's eye and made him want her on his team even more. Now she was torn. Broaden her abilities, or stay where she knew she belonged. She sighed heavily, wishing she weren't so talented.

Of course, there was Dell to think about. Once word leaked out to Bill about him, Bill would surely rethink his persistence, right? Dell had always wanted to help out, and what better way to do that than to keep Naomi, a woman he once loved, at Oceanside?

What frustrated her, what was causing the cursing and groaning, was the fact that she had reviewed Dell's scenario—and any other possible situation, that would cost her this job—in her head, and yet, she _didn't _want those scenarios to happen.

What do you do when you become life becomes an emotional tug-of-war? Naomi fiddled angrily with her tweezers and tried her hardest to focus on the little life she was creating.

At least she had her lab, her small, personal, safe haven. She used this room under obligation, to do her bills, to sing to herself, and even to be alone. People around the practice knew better than to interrupt Naomi when she was in 'The Lab'. In her little corner of the world, surrounded by frozen fertilized eggs, was where Naomi felt most comfortable to think and be herself.

She was almost certain that she would have a much larger lab, with the fanciest equipment imaginable for any fertilization specialist, and yet, the privacy and the safety this lab had provided would be gone. And it would only get smaller and smaller until the memories of the lab, and the people who cared about her enough to stay out, were mere flecks of her memory.

Naomi suddenly felt herself wishing that _she _were the baby in the Petri dish. A clean slate. No mistakes, no burdens, no decisions… She envied this baby, who would come into the world not knowing right from wrong, but still having the chance to learn before it became too late. As she watched the two reproductive cells connect, Naomi sighed to herself.

She drew her face away from the microscope she had been using to come face to face with another confused doctor. Naomi jumped. How long had Sam been in the room, watching her work? It seemed to her that she had been alone, her only company the embryo in the dimly lit room for as long as she could remember.

"Naomi," he stated, as if to make sure it was her himself. Naomi smiled, uncomfortable by his presence, and blushed. Ever since she had been given Bill's offer, just standing remotely close to Sam got her sweating.

But something caught her attention. He had stepped into the lab. Sam knew more than anyone that the lab was off limits when Naomi was inside. The uncharacteristic gesture, in addition to his breathtaking brown eyes, proved to her that he meant business.

"Hey, Sam," Naomi said, her usually calm voice shooting up to a shaky soprano. "What's up?" Sam opened his mouth and quickly shut it several times. His brow furrowed and his eyes flickered from Naomi's face to the floor. His fists clenched, sending paler shades of brown over his knuckles. Naomi could tell what he was trying to tell her was difficult for him.

Immediately, she put the puzzle pieces together. Sam knew now. He _had _to know. Why else would he come into the lab and not know what to say? Then again, Sam was always a bit shy when it came to conflict and communication, and he was far too level-headed at the moment to know about her decision.

"I ca—can't stop thinking about that video," Sam muttered, uncomfortable. Naomi made her way around the microscope on the counter to stand before Sam. Being this close to him sent her heart racing with nerves…and a bit of another emotion she could not quite put her finger on.

"I know. Why would Dell do that?" Naomi said cheerily, grateful to be out in the clearing again. A part of her wished to tell Sam about her predicament. After all, they were friends—exes, sure—but they were still friends, and they were on a telling basis. She was sure that the longer she let her secret carry on, the madder Sam would be when he found out. The madder _everyone _would be.

"I don't know, but something needs to be about it, Nae. It's…it's unacceptable," Sam mumbled, barely making sense. Naomi tugged at the elastic on her goggles and chuckled softly.

"Sam, you're not making any sense…" she began, but Sam cut her off, taking a giant step forward and putting both hands firmly on her shoulders. Sam looked her square in the eye and sighed.

"I'm saying that we need to get rid of Dell…before he gets us _all _fired."

_But I know  
There__'__s so much more to find  
Just in looking through myself, and not at them  
Still, I know  
To trust my own true mind  
And to say there__'__s a way through this_

**Hey guys! So there's some Naomi/Sam for you. I personally hated Duncan and think Bill's really annoying, so it was a lot of fun making them seem like the bad guys. And now Dell's job is at stake! :O What will Naomi and Sam choose, and more importantly, what will Naomi choose? Stay tuned... Next chapter: Sylvia's grand entrance. Thanks for reading and reviewing! The end of the school year is a very stressful time for me, and I know some sweet little reviews would really cheer me up! Thanks!**

**-ILoVeWicked **


	11. Room to Breathe

**Disclaimer: I do not own PrP. **

**Room to Breathe**

_I still take you to bed  
__But it's the you I face instead  
Where I use every word I never said to crack you open  
There was barely room to breathe  
Getting the skeptic to believe  
__That the goal wasn't to leave one of us broken  
If it's true nothing gets close to you for fear of melting down  
Then I've become the chosen one, an example for the crowd_

VIOLET

Along with growing up with the world's most controlling, overbearing sister and biggest pushover of a father, Violet had dealt with rape, abortion, and death all at a young age. She was good with secrets and bottling up her feelings; it was one of the reasons she became a therapist, so people wouldn't have to deal with the overwhelming feeling that the world was against you. She wanted to protect innocent people from the world she had come to know.

So it puzzled Violet that she _wanted_ to tell someone her secret of Sylvia moving in with her. She thought that if someone knew, if someone understood…maybe she wouldn't feel so horrible about herself.

Violet stared blankly at the black TV screen and picked nervously at the skin around her fingernail. She figured Cooper would have to find out, eventually. And once Cooper found out his voice would rise and he would start yelling in French and then he would tell the rest of the staff. Violet groaned to herself when she pictured the smirk on Pete's face when he learned that she was allowing herself to be controlled by her older sister. It was times like these when she really wished she could drink.

Her eyes darted around, not quite comfortable with sitting still along with the rest of her body. Clock, TV, clock, TV…the gears in her head turned rapidly as she thought her entire speech to Cooper over and over. She was just going to simply tell him that she was an adult, an adult who was very confused, and she needed a woman's help. If he didn't like it, she decided to tell him, he could leave. Quick and painless, just like ripping off a band-aid, right?

The doorknob twisted and turned and Violet suddenly felt very, very wrong. Her breath hitched when Cooper appeared at the doorway. But he didn't shut the door right away; he turned over his shoulder to beckon to someone outside the house. Violet tensed up. Sylvia moved at only two speeds: slow and slower. There was no way she could pack in a mere matter of hours. The other person entered Violet's field of vision.

Charlotte.

Violet checked the clock again, fairly certain that booty call time wasn't until late at night. Violet shuddered, remembering all of the times she had been rattled out of her much-needed sleep by Charlotte's uncontrollable pleasured outbursts.

Charlotte, Cooper, Sylvia and her all in the same house._ This should be interesting,_ Violet thought. Violet shrunk deeper into the couch, praying for a meteorite to reach her home before Sylvia did. The only thing more mortifying to her than telling Cooper her sister was moving in was telling Cooper _and _his girlfriend that her sister was moving in. The girlfriend hated her enough already. Violet figured she ought to have her own hate group at that point, conspiring against her. Cooper would surely join once he heard this piece of news.

"Um…Cooper?" Violet asked, breaking herself free from the heated three-way staring contest. Her meek voice was barely recognizable. Cooper's eyebrow jerked upward. Violet could see that he was assuming she was asking for another favor, which she was. But this major, Sylvia-sized favor was way different than tying her shoes for her.

"Yeah?"

Violet struggled to get her bloated self up from the couch. "I—uh—I have something to t—tell y—you, Coop," she muttered, all hopes of being on her feet again pointless. Charlotte seemed amused by the little show Violet had been putting on, but Violet decided that the blonde woman wasn't worth her time. All she could do at that moment was a grand total of two things: look at Cooper and feel completely guilty about what she was on the subject of doing to him.

Cooper's face twisted in more concern regarding her. "Yeah?" he asked again, with more sincerity. Violet squeezed her eyes shut. She thought of all the times she had confessed her deepest sins; for better or for worse, she knew she had to tell Cooper. _Rip the band-aid…_

Before she could even find her wording, a certain redhead made her grand entrance, men with huge bags proceeding behind her. Violet buried her head in her hands. Leave it to Sylvia to have to hire assistance in carrying her luggage.

"Violet!" she sang out. "I'm home!"

Cooper's jaw dropped at the fact that Sylvia was in the house, Charlotte's jaw dropped at the realization of who this woman was, and Violet longed for some much-needed tequila.

"Where should I put my stuff? Upstairs? The guest room? Okay!" her sister practically shouted. Sylvia's bright and shiny aura sucked the energy right out of Violet, and as she had always been when it came to Sylvia, Violet was left defenseless once again. There was no hiding Sylvia's giddiness as she bounded up the stairs like an eight-year-old girl at her first sleepover.

The first thing Violet saw when she looked up from her lap was Cooper's enraged glare.

CHARLOTTE

Immediately, the thought that flooded her mind first when the bubbly red-head stepped through the door with her trail of bagmen was: This_ is Violet's sister_?

Automatically, Charlotte scanned both Violet and the other woman from head to toe. Physically, they looked very similar. Violet's sister's face seemed older, each line on her face repressing a memory that had made her look that way. She was classically beautiful, like Violet. Charlotte could imagine how beautiful their mother had been.

It lead her to think of her own mother. The mother she hadn't seen since she was a little girl, the mother who abused drugs and alcohol like it was candy, and the mother who hated her. Her cloudy thoughts were interrupted by Violet's sister's high-heeled feet managed to stomp loudly and elatedly, banging in her head and sending her dizzy. The men followed, heaving as they struggled to make it up the stairs with what Charlotte could assume was her entire house. Sending once more glance at the clearly humiliated Violet, Charlotte finally understood what was going on.

Mentally, Charlotte decided, Violet and her sister had two completely different things going on in their heads. From what she could tell, the sister was convinced that she had become a member of Violet's ever-growing brood, and Violet wanted nothing more than to have her leave. Charlotte felt her lip twitch as her stomach churned with a new emotion for Violet. Sympathy.

Cooper was obviously not feeling the same emotion as Charlotte. He sped to Violet's side, leaving Charlotte with nothing but empty wind beside her, his eyes wide with horror.

"What is she _doing_?" Cooper asked, his voice a fiery whisper. Violet looked small and helpless as she sunk into the deepest crevice of her oversized couch, shrugging.

"She doesn't think I can do this alone…so she's…moving in?" Violet asked, as if she were unsure of the idea herself. Charlotte watched, the feeling in her stomach growing, as Cooper grabbed his friend's tiny shoulders and began shaking her.

"Are you insane!? You're sister is _crazy_!" He started scolding her in some incoherent language; it sounded like French. She had no idea Cooper spoke fluent French. Charlotte, a Latin major, could not make any sense of Cooper's foreign babbling. Violet obviously understood the whole thing, huffing and rolling her eyes on cue.

"But Sylvia's my sister," Violet reasoned calmly, flatly. This seemed as if she were bored discussing the matter with Cooper. It occurred to Charlotte that Violet had given up a long time ago. Even her clothes, sweats that contrasted the fancy articles she had been wearing earlier that day, spoke surrender. The white flag above the brunette's head practically screamed at Cooper.

"Violet, how old are you?" Cooper asked seriously. Evidentially, this woman didn't have power over just Violet. Cooper seemed scared silly over Violet's sister.

Violet blinked, flustered, at him. "Could we not?"

Cooper shook her shoulders again, more intensity in his glare than Charlotte had ever seen him show. It was like watching a koala bear lash out on a hippo; completely and utterly out of the ordinary. "How old are you?" he urged. Violet sighed.

"Thirty-seven."

"And that makes you a what?" Cooper asked, the creepy edge never faltering in his voice. Charlotte cringed from her spot on the stairs. Like a chess piece in the middle of a very intense game, it had been her first move in a long time.

"An adult," Violet droned.

"Is your sister aware of that?" he asked, still shaking her like a maraca. Violet squirmed out of his grasp and flicked him on the forehead.

"Could you just stop rattling me around before my kid goes through very early shaken baby syndrome?" Cooper quit the crazed shaking of his friend. Violet took a jagged breath and stared up at Cooper with defeated eyes.

"Sylvia knows I can raise a baby by myself…she just…her kids are growing up, and she always needs someone to take care of. I love her, Cooper, and she's been my maternal figure forever. I can't possibly turn her away now, not when she's so happy and so willing to be a part of my life. It'll only be for a little while, until the baby is a few months old. And she knows what to do. She practically raised me and two children," she explained.

She looked up at Cooper, tears brimming her eyes. "I don't want to lose my sister again," Violet croaked sadly.

Charlotte shook her head. Cooper, and adopted only child, could never understand. The bond between two siblings was something that could never be recreated, not even between a parent and child, and Charlotte knew that for a fact. Her and her siblings had clung together through everything, especially their mother's absence and father's death. They had been the life jacket to get her through the roughest of waters, wherever, whenever. And where had Sylvia been for Violet? It was obvious that they had been close once, but time and some unknown conflict had taken that away from the both of them.

Cooper stared at her long and hard while the color in his face restored itself to be somewhat normal. "Okay, she can stay." Violet smiled, and Cooper raised a finger just inches from her nose.

"But if she starts telling me how to brush my teeth I swear…"

He was quickly cut off when Violet tackled him with a hug. It was tight, too close for Charlotte's liking, but she could detect no romance in Violet's grip. To Violet, Cooper was her life-jacket, and whether or not Charlotte liked it, there would always be rough waters for her.

"Thank you," she whispered in Cooper's ear, but loud enough for Charlotte to hear.

Sylvia flew back down the flight of stairs sprightly. Violet immediately broke from Cooper and lapsed back into her vegetated state. A huge smile was glued to Sylvia's face. It was the first time Charlotte had seen a real smile in a while. The older woman thanked the working men individually as they exited the house with their compensation, and then turned, shutting the door. She suddenly looked shocked, as if she had just noticed that there were other people in the room besides her little sister.

"Oh, and who is this?" Sylvia asked, addressing Violet like a toddler. Violet sighed.

"You know Cooper, Syl," Violet said as warmly as she could, pointing to where Cooper was sitting beside her. Sylvia nodded. Her red curls, similar to Violet's, danced on her shoulders.

"Yeah, sure, the frumpy one," Sylvia stated blankly, turning her attention away from a highly offended Cooper and toward Charlotte.

Charlotte felt herself tense up. Like a person walking through airport security, she knew nothing was wrong with her, but she was well aware that she was being closely inspected. Charlotte was not quite sure what Violet's sister did for a living, but police officer seemed like a reasonable drawing. Sylvia smiled, which Charlotte took as a good sign. She was weapon free.

"And who is this _beautiful _young lady?" Sylvia asked. Her feet carried her weightlessly to stand before Charlotte. Charlotte had always been told that she was beautiful, but standing before Sylvia as she used the word made her feel simply incomparable.

"Charlotte King. She's the Chief of Staff at St. Ambrose Hospital and a…friend of Cooper's," Violet explained. Charlotte sent Violet a grateful glance and held out her hand toward Sylvia.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am," Charlotte said. Sylvia took her hand and shook it as fervently as Cooper had been shaking Violet. The woman squealed like a sorority girl and clapped her hands together.

"What an _adorable _accent!" She reached forward and grabbed a lock of Charlotte's hair. Sylvia smelled strangely of peppermint with a hint of homey warmness that made Charlotte long for Alabama. "And that hair...it's absolutely lovely! My, you're so gorgeous!"

Charlotte felt herself grow red from all the flattery. She could hardly understand why Violet and Cooper went around broadcasting the fact that Sylvia was crazy, when she seemed far from it. Charlotte even felt a twang of jealousy toward Violet again. Both had lost their mothers, and yet, Violet had been aided with an older sister to fill that void. Charlotte was the oldest, and once her mother had abandoned her, she was alone to care for herself and her brothers and sisters. If she had someone as loving as Sylvia raising her, she was sure she would have turned out much happier and much more open to help.

Sylvia broke away from admiring Charlotte to stare down, both literally and figuratively at her sister. "_Please _tell me that this stunning beauty is a friend of yours, Vi, because I swear, I don't think I can take another one of your _many, many _men."

Charlotte could finally see what Violet meant by, 'You don't know my sister.' in the elevator earlier that day. Sylvia was a very unpredictable woman. One minute she was cheering, and the next, she was judgmental of her own sister. She made it clear for you very early who she liked and disliked. Charlotte, Pete, Sheldon and Cooper had already been established. There was no doubt in Charlotte's mind that Sylvia had plenty to say, but she was sure that Sylvia did not have enough nerve to label her family. That left Violet to deal with all the ridicule while Sylvia decided what her sister was to her.

Violet's mouth gaped open as her eyes darted from her sister to Charlotte. The same thing ran through Charlotte's head. What would she call the relationship between her and Violet? Certainly not friends, but certainly not enemies. Charlotte could see in Violet's frantic eyes that she had two options: lie to her sister and piss Charlotte off, or tell the truth and piss her sister off. Charlotte could slowly see the white flag rising once again, and Charlotte would not stand for it.

"Yeah, I guess you could say we're pretty close," Charlotte said, stepping forward. "Right, Vi?" The nickname was new on her tongue, but it rolled off quicker and easier than she had expected it to. Violet looked confused for a moment, but once Cooper nudged her and Charlotte's eyes widened, she smiled and laughed hesitantly.

"Um…yeah! BFFs!" Violet cheered, sounding like her sister. Sylvia giggled and yawned loudly, her long, elegant arms extending to either side of her body and nearly knocking Charlotte out.

"Well, moving day has me beat!" she said.

"You didn't carry anything in," Cooper retorted. It was no secret that he did not like this woman or the idea of her living in the house with him. Sylvia's thin eyebrow cocked upward.

"Did I ask you?" she snapped. She beamed at Charlotte as she headed halfway up the stairs. "Nighty night, girls!"

"Nighty night!" Cooper called back sarcastically. Charlotte suddenly felt a pair of soft blue eyes on her, level with her. Since when had Violet been able to get herself up from that couch? The owner of the timeless eyes wrung her hands in front of her stomach nervously.

"Hey…uh…thanks for what you did earlier. You really saved me from another unnecessary argument with the warden," Violet said awkwardly. Charlotte smirked.

"No problem. That's what '_BFFs_' are for," she replied, elbowing the other woman and finally urging a smile out of her. It was nice to see Violet smile, even if it was forced. Cooper pursed his lips and clapped his hand together, imitating a certain person sleeping upstairs.

"Aww, my two girls actually getting along! It's an absolute _miracle_!" he gushed.

"Shut up," Violet said through a snort. "I'm going to get to bed myself. You two enjoy yourselves." Cooper winked at her, and Charlotte rolled her eyes.

"Nighty night," Violet said mockingly. Charlotte waved goodbye swiftly. The fake friendship with Violet seemed more natural than she had expected it to be. Maybe the pregnant best friend, the guy, and his girlfriend could all be pals after all.

_Your star is due for shooting and I'll be watching the night sky  
In hopes that soon what binds us will come untied_

**Howdy ho! Well, school is officially over, and I have done nothing so far this summer besides write this chapter, sleep, and watch TV...and it feels really, really good! I hope everyone's summer has started off well additionally! For the story, I decided to take a different approach on Charlotte and Violet becoming friends. The way they did it on the show was probably much cuter...but I wanted to find a way to incoorperate Sylvia in there somehow. And if you think Violet's sister is annoying now...wait till she makes her next apperance. Coming up: Addison, Pete, and Dell make some strides in their relationships and Jess gets her diagnosis. Stay tuned! I'll be on vacation all next week, so the next update may be a little late. But as far as this chapter goes, you know the drill...reviews are the honey to my mustard! Thanks a bunch! **

**-ILoVeWicked**

**PS- My guess on Charlotte's family was _waaaay_ off, so we'll just pretend that she's got five brothers and sisters and that her life with them was lovey-dovey ;)**


	12. Falling Slowly

**Disclaimer: I don't own a thing!**

**Falling Slowly**

_I don't know you  
But I want you  
All the more for that  
Words fall through me  
And always fool me  
And I can't react  
And games that never amount  
To more than they're meant  
Will play themselves out_

DELL

"No, no, no, no, no," Layla muttered, now in fetal position and rocking back and forth on her side. Dell pursed his lips. For a chatty girl, she sure had little to say besides 'no' at the moment. Kyliegh had crawled to her mother's side, poking her and calling her name, but there seemed to be no breaking Layla from this trance. She was in a world of her own; a dark, twisted world of her own.

Dell stood there, waiting for the roof to cave in or a tsunami to hit, anything dramatic that would take the pain away from him. Watching Layla stare at the wall and mutter negative words right in front of her daughter and a complete stranger was bizarre enough. Her eyes were no longer staring at the wall. A glazed look had fallen over them. Dell considered for a moment that Layla had gone into shock and was about to call for Naomi when she sat up.

Sniffling, Layla grabbed her belongings and held out her hand towards Kyliegh. She was acting strangely, like she hadn't just had a nervous breakdown at an ultrasound.

"C'mon, baby, we're going home," Layla croaked, her voice a faint, cracking whisper. Kyliegh sent a cautious stare towards Dell before taking her mother's hand. Layla heaved herself up, fingers trembling along her abdomen where her new child was growing, and swiftly made her way to the door.

"Thank you," she muttered in Dell's ear as she passed. Like an automaton with cement bricks for feet, Layla drug herself and her daughter to the elevator. Dell stood, wading in the air around him like it was shark infested waters. Something was wrong, he decided. No woman like Layla without some sort of murky past would go into a panic attack over the miracle of life. But what could have set her off? Dell felt as if he should have known the answer, an easy Jeopardy question that remained on the tip of his tongue.

On an instinct, Dell decided to pay someone a visit.

With just two raps on the door, Dell was welcomed into the office. His palms were coated with the familiar moisture of sweat, not that he was nervous to see Violet.

He was just nervous for the truth.

"Hey, Dell, what's up?" Violet asked. He could tell just by the way her eyes grazed over his fidgeting form and by the way the tone in her voice reeked of exhaustion that she was forcing herself to be perky.

Dell ran his perspiring hands along the sides of his pant legs and sighed heavily. He suddenly felt evasive of Layla. Here he was, the midwife in training, researching the past of _Addison's _patient—a girl he hardly knew enough about to care for. But something about the way Layla lay on the floor, helpless and crying, told him that what he was doing would be beneficial for both him and Layla. There was no turning back anyway; he already had Violet's attention. His teachers, the only parental figures he had ever known, had always said that it was better to face the truth as quickly as possible, rather than regretting all of the possibilities.

"So let's say, hypothetically, I have this young woman as a patient. She's got the All-American vibe going on: pretty, sweet, and mannerly. And she's got this really adorable daughter, and they're happy together. We'll call her Jane Doe," Dell breathed, his words racing at a mile per minute. A crease formed above Violet's eyebrows.

"Okay, Jane Doe," she agreed, leaning back in her seat.

"And, _hypothetically_, I'm performing a regular ultrasound on her. Jane and I get to talking about kids and life and stuff when I tell her that she's pregnant. As if she's in complete unawareness of the fact that she is most definitely _in the middle of an ultrasound_, Jane breaks down into this fit and fades into this silent state of shock…And then she just snaps out of it and leaves, like nothing happened."

"Hypothetically, of course," Violet mused, a strand of brown hair circling around her finger. The swaying motion of Violet's hand reminded Dell of Layla lying on the floor.

_No, no, no…_

"So what do you think is wrong with Lay—_Jane Doe_?" Dell asked, catching himself before he fell flat on his face. Patient-doctor confidentiality was big in Naomi's eyes; the last thing he wanted to do was tick Naomi off again. Judging by the expression on the face of the older, more educated woman in front of him, Dell could tell that Violet had caught onto his evil scheme the moment he walked into her office.

Sighing, Violet folded her hands across her stomach. Her eyes never left the chipping paint on the side of her desk, revealing a coat of reddish rust. Dell could see that she had drawn a conclusion, and she knew him well enough to be sure that he wouldn't like it. That would explain the lack of eye contact. Dell sighed. Layla's paint was chipping, and her rust, the ugly truth, was sitting right on front of him.

With strange glassy eyes that reminded him of Layla's previous face and made him wince, Violet whispered hoarsely:

"I think Jane Doe may have been raped, Dell."

ADDISON

There was no doubt in her mind that Malcolm killed her pregnant, sick patient Janine's husband, his own brother, Phillip. The second Janine had learned her heart was inflamed and she only had little time for a transplant, Addison could see it in Malcolm's eyes that he was determined not to lose her. Malcolm had gone to all the ultrasounds and helped Janine out with the baby's needs, always using his medical profession as an excuse. But love, Addison realized, was what drove Malcolm to do all of those things with Janine while Phillip was never around, and hate, she presumed, was what led him to kill his own brother, an organ donor.

Charlotte and Janine had been right all along, she decided. There could be no better explanation for a woman who needs a heart conveniently getting one when her husband dropped dead from an insulin overdose, her brother-in-law standing by and encouraging her life the whole time. The answer had to be homicide. Malcolm killed his brother to save his brother's wife, the woman he loved, and her child. All was fair in love and war, but was Malcolm pushing love's limit?

Then again, no actual proof had been found to confirm Malcolm's man-slaughter. Addison buried her head in her hands as she remembered Janine's face, disturbed, confused, and shocked, as she learned of her husband's death and knew immediately to herself what had caused it.

Gazing through the blinds of Janine's room, Addison watched in disgust as Malcolm tenderly kissed Janine's hand, his eyes filled with desires no brother-in-law should have for his brother's wife. Janine, so scared and helpless, stared back, and Addison could see the thoughts of Phillip running through her head. How could Malcolm stoop so low? Taking away the one Janine loved for his own selfish conflict…

Addison swallowed hard. The thought revolted her, and yet, it completely applied to her. Wouldn't it be the same principal with Noah, Morgan, and her? Wasn't she willing to take away the one man pregnantMorgan loved more than anything for herself? Addison shuddered at the irony and began trekking out the door of the hospital, ready to put the Janine saga behind her.

That was when she ran into him. Literally. Standing in his entire glory, Noah crashed into her. She could feel the breath escaping her lungs as she collided with his firm chest, feeling the ripples of chiseled skin underneath his scrub top. For a moment, she could feel his arms starting to go around her body. Addison coiled back, looking at Noah with a new kind of emotion. Jealousy. As much as she wished she wasn't like Malcolm, she was every bit like him. It was terrifying to her. She felt the warm, wet threats of tears springing into her eyes and she wrapped her arms around her waist to keep from wheezing.

"Addison," he stated. His voice was husky with lust. Addison shook her head and refused to look into those beautiful eyes. She knew that to look in those eyes only meant to be hurt again.

"We can't—I can't—I can't be like him," Addison admitted in a whisper, her eyes seeking Janine and Malcolm for refuge. She knew she looked pitiful standing before him, mascara clumping under her eyes and her body twitching with her conflicting emotions.

The angel on her right shoulder screamed in her ear: _Run away! _But the devil on her left shoulder snickered evilly and pushed her toward him, into his arms, sobbing like a maniac. Noah ran his hand along her back and shushed her, soothed her. Addison only cried harder when she realized that Morgan had never gotten this treatment. Noah kissed the top of her head.

"You're not like him. It's different. Phillip and Malcolm _both_ loved Janine. I have no feelings for Morgan whatsoever. I don't love her like I love you," he told her. Addison tried to wriggle from his grasp, but Noah held onto her tightly.

Finally, her heart betrayed her head and she looked into Noah's pleading eyes. "We could be together," he whispered, excitement bubbling in undertones beneath his voice. Addison shook her head again, the thought of that happening thrilling her and haunting her.

The angel and the devil were at war now: pounding on her head, tugging at her hair, anything that would convince her to their side. Addison glanced into those eyes again, stole one final look at Malcolm as he watched over a sleeping Janine, and knew her decision was made. She was about to open her mouth and reply when she was snapped back to the reality that they were standing in the middle of a hospital.

"Doctor Barnes, you're needed in room 212," a young intern explained. The young doctor stole one disapproving glance at Addison as she lead Noah away, and immediately she was back at square one. Denial crept over her like a heat wave and sent her running for the nearest exit.

COOPER

There he was, God in the eyes of a fourteen year old girl and her mother, pacing back and forth. Violet's eyes followed him closely and impatiently. Cooper wrung his hands around and around nervously, as if he were about to confess his deepest sin, and stared back up and Jess and Leah.

Leah gripped into Jess' hand so tightly each of their knuckles had turned a pale purple. Leah's lip was also white from the pressure her teeth were putting on it; she stared at Cooper with eyes full of hope and fear. He had delivered news to children and patients before, good and bad, but never had it been this hard. He had known Leah and Jess for twelve years. He was practically an uncle, overlooking Jess' medical life. He supposed the closer you became to them, the harder it was to lose them.

Cooper scratched the back of his head nervously. "Well, um, Doctor Turner and I have each taken a look at Jess. She's explored her mind, and I've inspected her body through past physicals and compared them to this one. We've come up with the conclusion that…"

Cooper looked from girl to girl. Leah's eyes, bright with trust that Jess would just need a few medications and would be on her way, were worlds different than Jess' eyes, which were shadowed with doubt. The additude difference was one of the list of many differences that rubbed Leah and Jess together in the wrong direction. He couldn't stand to do this to them, to be the one to add onto that list, not with their family falling apart at the seams already.

"That…um…" He scavenged his brain for words, but nothing could tear him away from the two crumpling figures sitting in front of him. Leah leaned forward in anticipation. Jess sat as still as a statue. Both could be easily broken with the mallet of hard, unfathomable truth that was about to be smashed upon them.

Out of the corner of his eye, Cooper saw Violet stand. Without even so much as a kind word to the two ladies, Violet blurted out, "There's a chance that Jessica may have a brain tumor and we would like to schedule an MRI for her as soon as possible."

Quickly, wordlessly, Violet escaped, and Cooper was left alone to watch both strong women break down in each other's arms.

_Take this sinking boat and point it home  
We've still got time  
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice  
You'll make it now  
Falling slowly, eyes that know me  
And I can't go back  
Moods that take me and erase me  
And I'm painted black  
You have suffered enough  
And warred with yourself  
It's time that you won_

**Hey guys! So I'm back after a bit of a hiatus...I was on vacation then started a theater camp and had a huge audition last weekend...let's just say it's been a busy past few weeks ;) Putting up this chapter also took a little longer than hoped b/c I had a minor freak out that I was going too off in this story and had no plot...so I literally spent the day watching reruns of the show and writing an outline of the fic. Now everything is nice and ready to be written out. So I hope this chapter was a good make-up for my absence...Layla's secret, Jess' diagnosis, Addison's almost acceptance of Noah, Violet's 'tude...I do hope it was all good schtuff for you all :) Review and let me know, please! Thanks!**

**-ILoVeWicked**

**Up next: A chappie dedicated the less complicated love triangle of Pete-Lisa-Violet! Whoot!**


	13. When Words Fail

**Disclaimer: I own nada.**

**When Words Fail**

_When words fail, what will I do?  
When words fail, how will she know how I feel?  
When words fail, will I fail too?_

PETE

It had become a routine: going out to lunch with Ben, and then going out alone with Lisa at night. Pete, a more of a spur-of-the-moment kind of person, didn't care too much for routine. But if it kept that beautiful smile on Lisa's flawless face, he decided it was worth it to act like a robot.

After yet another date with Ben to a pizza parlor, Pete found himself giving Lisa and Ben the grand tour of the practice. Now Ben was convinced that he was going to become a doctor so he could 'live' in a cool place like Doctor Pete.

"Big Ben has a big appetite," Pete stated, laughing as Ben skipped ahead of the couple.

"I'm an eating machine," Ben stated proudly, holding up his tiny hand for a high-five. Pete smacked his palm against Ben's and smirked.

"Six slices my man, rock on," Pete said cheerily. Ben continued to run ahead, eager to see the rest of Doctor Pete's domain. Lisa strode beside him, inching closer and closer to his side with each step. She leaned forward and pecked him on the lips, smiling uncontrollably as she leaned away from him.

Pete thought of the night before. Their first kiss had been magical, something out of a fairy tale; it was the perfect way to end their night. Pete grabbed her around the waist and kissed her longer. Lisa breathed in, shocked by the sudden contact, but kissed back. They were a working item, what was there to be ashamed of?

"Oh, excuse me, Ma'am!"

Pete felt himself stiffen as the woman Ben had collided with came into view. Violet struggled to catch her balance, blushing to herself. Pete suddenly went into protective possible father mode, inspecting Violet for the slightest amount of pain. He was relieved to see that she was perfectly stable. Lisa, on the other hand, disagreed.

"Excuse him!" Lisa said in disbelief, making wide, surprised eyes in her son's direction as he trotted on. "Someone calls me Ma'am I just wanna choke them." Pete could see in Violet's eyes that she had already detected who this woman was and was examining her. Violet finally breathed out a fake smile.

"Oh, that's fine…I've been called worse," Violet replied breezily. She sent Pete a look that seemed to say, _Aren't you going to introduce me to your new girlfriend?_ The look in Lisa's eyes seemed to say, _Aren't you going to introduce me to your co-worker?_ Lisa was practically bubbling with the newfound excitement of greeting someone was not a trace of excitement in Violet's eyes. Thank goodness Lisa was in oblivion, otherwise...he shuddered as he thought of what would break out between the two women.

"Um, Lisa, this is Violet," he said, gesturing towards Violet's abdominal area and feeling like a moron for it. Violet's hand twitched in that direction. Pete refused to look into her eyes as he mumbled, "Violet, Lisa." Lisa grabbed Violet's hand and shook it enthusiastically. Violet looked seasick.

"Hi! It's so nice to meet you!" Lisa gushed. Her eyes grew wide as she noticed Violet's obvious bump, the part of the conversation Pete dreaded the most. "How many weeks are you?" Violet bit her lip, and Pete could see her counting backwards _twice_.

"Um…thirty-five-ish?" Violet asked, her eyebrow raising as she looked at Pete for a confirmation. Pete nodded, the swiftest flick of his limbs, to let her know that he agreed and so Lisa wouldn't see them communicating. Truth be told, he had no idea how far along she was. Everything seemed to be zipping by so fast. Lisa beamed, her ignorance toward Pete something that delighted him.

"Well, you've got the glow." She gazed over at Ben, her smile changing. Ben played in the waiting room with a stack of Legos, his imagination leading him into a new worlds. Pete could almost see the dragons swirling around the little boy's head. The lines on Lisa's face morphed into something else, something even more wonderful. Pete never realized that smiles could be so different until he saw how Lisa's face changed from the excitement of meeting someone new to just looking at her son.

"Being a mother…nothing compares," Lisa said dreamily. Violet nodded slowly.

"Yup, that's what I've heard," Violet said quietly, her smile showing the beginnings of mirroring Lisa's. "I'm really looking forward to it."

Her eyes met Pete's for a moment before they fell back to the ground, the box she had been kicking earlier situated at her feet, and Pete felt a pang of guilt. Here he was, happy as a clam and carefree with Lisa and her child, and there was Violet, alone and hating it. Even though there was only a fifty percent chance it the baby being his, he still felt as though he should be helping her out somehow. He didn't even know the answer to how far along she was.

They all stood silently for a while. Violet stared at her box, Lisa bobbed her head around and continued to beam, and Pete wanted to set himself on fire or move to Peru. Finally, Lisa looked up at him and grinned.

"See you later?" she asked, hope in her voice. Pete nodded.

"How about tonight?" Pete answered, grimacing as he thought of the routine.

"Sounds good," Lisa said cheekily before planting another long kiss on his face. He could practically feel Violet itching to remove herself from the situation. Before he knew it, Lisa and Ben were making their trip down the elevator, and he and Violet were alone.

Violet simply shrugged. "She seems nice," she said. Pete could sense something hidden beneath the phrase, but opted just to lift the box wordlessly and carry it to her office. It was the least he could do.

At that moment, Sam walked by. He looked over his shoulder, caught a glimpse of Lisa, and did a double take. He looked at Pete, his face reading approval all over it. He jabbed a finger in the direction of the elevator. "She's...um...I like her," Sam said, careful with the secret guy's code in front of Violet.

_PRIVATE PRACTICE_

He didn't plan for his relationship with Lisa to turn into anything. After Violet had broken his heart, and had been the closest he had ever gotten to a legitimate relationship, he never thought he could feel so secure and so passionate about a woman ever again. But as he kissed her, their bodies moving together on the moonlit terrace in the middle of town, he was certain that he felt _something_. After all, when she just _looked _at him he practically went into cardiac arrest.

They had spent the whole night together, dinner, a walk through downtown Los Angeles, and finally dancing on the terrace. Lisa's soft lips tugging on his rough lips moved in perfect harmony, and he never wanted to let go. Finally, both had to come up from air. There was an evident high on Lisa's face, her eyebrows rising in arouse. The shimmer of the Christmas lights strewn around them reflected like diamonds off of Lisa's hair as she twirled around and landed in his embrace.

"You're such a great dancer," she gushed, giggling. Pete caught his breath and kissed the top of her head, his own personal way of thanking her. He had never taken a dance lesson in his life, and the thought of dancing with Lisa had scared him to death. Surely, once she saw his lack of knowledge she would have turned him away. But somehow, his body knew exactly what to do on that little dance floor, and he had been able to impress Lisa with superpowers he didn't even know he had. Thankfully he had given in after Lisa insisted upon it for so long.

Lisa veered back around and stood on her tippy-toes to kiss him again. This kiss was different, full of lust, need, determination. Pete remembered Ben's words, "My mom hasn't gone out with anyone since my dad left" and shuddered, knowing exactly what was running through Lisa's mind. She didn't want him like he wanted her at that moment, she needed him. Lisa's hands found their way to cup the sides of his face, her fingernails pressing into his skin. Pete wanted to break away. The last thing he wanted to do was take advantage of her, yet, he found himself kissing her back. He reciprocated with less force, and Lisa clung to him tighter.

"I love you," she murmured into the kiss. Pete froze, lips and all, while Lisa continued her part. Gently, he took the sides of her face and pulled her away from him. Lisa groped at the air for a moment before blinking at him in confusion.

"What did you just say?" Pete asked, growing skeptic. Lisa smiled, innocent as a deer fawn. The warmth in her eyes melted his heart into pudding.

"I said I love you, Pete," she answered simply, as if this were Jeopardy. Pete couldn't respond. He stood, unmoving, contemplating. Was this 'something' in fact _love _for Lisa? She was beautiful, she was funny, smart, honest…but more importantly, she was aching. She had once been in love, just like him, and she had her heart broken, just like him. He knew how it felt to be hurting. Surely, Pete decided, he couldn't mean anything more to her than someone to fill her sexual desires. The look in Lisa's eyes, seductive and shadowed by thick eyelashes, told him that she was feeling something far from love. Pete suddenly felt foolish, a fish reeling in on a hook, for leading her into the wrong idea.

Pete inhaled deeply, knowing that his words were going to cut her like a knife. "Lisa, are you in love with _me_, or the fact that you've found someone after you divorced your husband?" Pete whispered. Lisa swayed from being caught off guard. Immediately, her eyes welled with tears, and Pete's soul nearly disintegrated.

"Pete…I…" she stammered. Before he knew it, she was in his embrace for completely different reasons. Gripping handfuls of his shirt, Lisa's tears soaked through the fabric and burned his skin. She gasped for air. The melodic, slow music around them stuck out like a sore thumb.

"I don't know if it's love, exactly," she admitted quietly after a few more moments of hysterics. "But I know I feel really strongly about you." Her green eyes bore a deep hole through his flesh as she stared up at him. Tears continued to pool in the corners of her eyes.

"Do you feel something too? Or is this pointless?" she asked, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. Pete's heart was accelerating. Caught in the middle thin tightrope, he had a choice. He could walk forward and reply yes; it was the safer, easier choice. Or he could opt for complication and fall off the rope, saying no.

Either way, he was in for it.

On one hand, there was his freedom and reputation at stake. He wasn't the type of man who was willing to meet a woman and start a legitimate relationship with her. He had only been willing to do that once and had fallen flat on his face in rejection. What would people think of him when he started settling down with a patient's mother, especially one who had just come out of a divorce? Would he be looked at as taking advantage of Lisa, when it was clearly the other way around? He could name five people off the top of his head who would look at it that way.

But what did he have to lose? It wasn't like he had women lining up for him. More like a line of women wanting to get _away _from him. Lisa was, granted, desperate, but she was still amazing in addition to that one unredeemable quality. He wanted to make things work between them, the aching in his chest told him so. He wanted to believe that he could be there for everyone: Lisa, Ben, his patients…

And the baby, this child who may not even belong to him. The chances were one in a million—he knew that all too well—but he felt a connection, an obligation to this child. It was feeling that overpowered his crush for Lisa. He couldn't hurt her, he decided. He couldn't handle two women who he really cared about to hate him. He thought about Violet: the way she looked at him now, the way she spoke to him after everything they had gone through...it was unbearable. Looking down at Lisa, who was waiting patiently for a response, he was not sure if he could handle that again.

His body had other plans. Mind over matter no longer applied. He would be completely lying if he said that he did not feel _something _for Lisa. In a matter of seconds, Lisa's body was against his chest, her perfect hair was matted in between his sweaty fingers, and her answer was lying in between their lips.

_PRIVATE PRACTICE_

Making love with Lisa was hardly like he had expected it to be. She was surprisingly calm and willing to let time take its course. They moved as one, no hesitancy or urgency. Needless to say, the night had been amazing. Lying breathless in his arms, Lisa suppressed a giggle.

"Wow…" she said, still coming off her high. "That was…_wow_." Pete smiled—he still had his touch, after all—and rubbed circles on her shoulder with his thumb. He never remembered a night being so magical with a woman—other than Violet, of course, but she always happened to be the exception to his rules. He supposed building a relationship with a woman was more satisfying in the end after all.

Things were right where Pete wanted them to be, the stars were perfectly aligned above his head, and yet, he still knew something huge was missing. He looked down at Lisa, so content as she played with his hands. Pete wrapped his arm behind his head and he stared up at the rotating ceiling fan. The blades seemed to be taunting him as they spun around and around and made him dizzy. The vibe he had gotten from before seemed to indicate that Lisa liked Violet, that she was genuinely happy for her. Sighing, he had no idea how she would react to his dirty little secret. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts and how he would express them to Lisa that he did not feel her stop wriggling with pleasure beneath him.

"What?" Lisa asked. A hint of laughter was in her voice, but Pete could hardly see the comedy. He was in such a good spot right now with her, and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin it over a chance. Pete swallowed hard. Maya sure had been right when she was six and convicted Sam of lying to her about where babies come from: Honesty is the best policy. Just like he was taking with his child, Pete reached out to the imaginary light in front of him, taking a chance.

"The woman you met this morning…" He felt like he was referring to a random lady at a coffee house and shook his head. "Violet…" He shook his head again, feeling that calling her by name was too personal. "The pregnant woman?"

He could feel Lisa's head nodding against the crook of his arm. "Yeah."

Pete waved his free arm around, searching for the right words. "We're…um…we're _not _together…but there's a chance that the baby might be mine." Immediately after ripping the painful band-aid off, Pete silently crossed his fingers at his side and prayed that she would get angry with him in a non humiliating way. He had already heard about Cooper tied to his bed with girl's underwear too many times. Lisa was stiff in his arms.

"Look," Pete said, aiming for a more sympathetic edge. "I really like you, and I want to start things off being honest." Now it was _his _turn to wait for her response.

"She doesn't know who the father is?" Lisa asked finally. It was the first time he had actually heard the statement aloud. If he were not involved in the situation, if he were not one of the possible fathers, he would feel the same way Lisa seemed to feel about it. Pete rubbed his temples. He was a stone skipping along the water as he started and stopped five different replies.

"It's a _long _story," Pete muttered finally. He looked down at Lisa, whose eyes were fixated on the wall, and added, "What are you thinking?" Lisa sighed.

"Do you know how hard it is for a single mom to find a man who's smart, and funny, and likes kids? Someone who likes me _and _my son…someone who doesn't think he's just…_in the way_." He could tell that she was trying her hardest to hide it, but there was no way of totally covering up the bitterness in her voice. Lisa had obviously been through this before, coming so close to getting together with someone, only to have him break it off because he could not handle the commitment of Ben. Lisa rolled over to her side and propped her head up with a pillow.

"I like you, Pete. This feels good, and right, so it's not the end of the world," she told him. Pete felt his lungs deflating with relief. Lisa looked him squarely, the embers igniting a new fire in her eyes. The passion had been served, and now Lisa had something else on her mind. He recognized the same face she had made that afternoon when she watched Ben playing with the Legos.

"But I have Ben, and I have to protect him." She fiddled with the curly chest hairs on his torso before she gazed back up at him wearily. "So I guess what I really need to know is: what are _you _thinking?"

He was ashamed to realize that he was thinking about Violet.

_Do I have a snowball's chance?  
Are my prospects just too grim?  
I spent my life stuck in the mud  
Now I'm crawling out on a limb  
If words fail, she'll know what I mean  
If words fail, she'll just take my hand  
She sees me like no one else has  
If words fail, she'll understand  
She'll understand _

**Hey guys! Sorry it's been awhile; I actually had this chapter typed up and ready to go a while ago, but I just got a new pug puppy this weekend...I love him like crazy, but naturally, it's been a lot of work. -__- Hopefully this can make up for it! I really liked Lisa a lot (granted, it was probably just b/c Idina was playing her...otherwise I would have been all GRR on her for screwing up Pete/Violet) on the show, but I thought they gave her absolutely NO depth at all, so I was really hoping to go for some character expansion with her. Anyhoo, please press the pretty little button below this message and let me know what you think...b/c trust me, all I've seen since Sunday is dog poo (potty training is ruthless), so some feedback would be much appreciated. Thanks!**

**-ILoVeWicked**


	14. Forever

**Disclaimer: I own notin…**

**Forever**

_We thought it had it all  
We thought we'd go unscathed  
We thought our love would border on infinity  
We thought that we were free  
The world would disappear  
We left ourselves wide open and we had no fear_

COOPER

He was unsettled, to say the least. One minute, Jess was happy, carefree, telling cat stories, and now…now she was possibly cancerous. Even if there turned out to be no tumor, something would have to explain Jess' sudden change. She was not like most teenagers, so committed to her dreams and the work it took to pursue them. Now, she seemed drained of all energy and ambition. She had not been so solemn at her last six-month check-up, so whatever was eating away at her body was doing so at lightning speed. She would have to go through intense radiation and chemo therapy if the tumor was unable to be removed by surgery. He could see Jess laying before him in a hospital bed, her skin blue and transparent, her hair left in messy patches along her head, machines beeping in every direction. Already, Cooper felt like he was losing his patient.

Not only was this going to destroy Jess, but he could already see the signs of it destroying Leah. Dark circles were forming under her eyes from the loss of sleep and the depression of her marriage falling apart. Her hand moved in shaky circles as she signed her name, sniffles and whimpers her only defense against the tears in her eyes. Jess stood mutely beside her. Both were expressing their shock differently. Cooper had only met Eric, Leah's ex-husband, a few times, but he knew him well enough to know that he cared for his daughter. How would he react to his oldest baby being face with death? And Haley, Jess' little sister, could not possibly be able to cope with losing her older sister. It would ruin them all emotionally for the rest of their lives to lose Jess.

Cooper was determined to not let that happen, but tumors were a form of cancer, and cancer was an unpredictable disease. For the first time in a while, Cooper was unsure if his patient would make it out alive.

Cooper nearly slid off the counter when he felt someone tugging at his shirt sleeve. He looked down to see Jess, shaking in her shoes. She looked smaller, weaker already. Jessica's face was listless. Her brown eyes were filled with tears along with an emotion that was unreadable. She chomped down on her quivering lower lip, one hand on her stomach, which was threatening to unload its contents on him.

The other hand rested on the top of her neck, at the intersection of her skull and spinal cord. Cooper swallowed the lump in his throat when he realized that the place her hand was resting was exactly where her tumor would spread to eventually. Deep in her brain, Jess' tumor may have been sitting, happily sucking the life from his bright little patient. By the look in her eyes, Cooper could tell that Jess had intentionally placed her hand there. She was a smart girl, she understood and handled things normal teenage girls would have no clue about and would whine over. He clenched his fists. It was unfair to wish this fate on anyone else, but he wished that it was not Jess cast into this pool.

"Thanks, Doctor Freedman…for everything you've done for me," Jess whispered, her voice proving that she was fighting away her emotions for his sake. Cooper placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it an assuring squeeze. When Jess didn't even so much as smile, Cooper pulled her in to stand at his side, his arm draped around her.

"Hey, Kiddo, don't say that. We don't know anything just yet," Cooper told her firmly, more for him to hear aloud than her. He was a doctor. He should have known better than to jump to conclusions. Jess, on the other hand, was a teenage girl. She should have been texting her friends that she would get miss school for the CAT scan, keeping a positive outlook on it all. Wasn't that what teenage girls did? Cooper, a middle-aged man, would never know.

Jess's shoulders pushed against his arm as she sighed deeply. "_Yet_. Doctor Freedman, I've put all the puzzle pieces together. I've gotten straight A's in health class, and I don't need to be a genius to figure out that all of my symptoms apply to brain damage. It's safe to say that this will be the last time I ever see you again." Her words struck him at the side, a dagger stabbing away at its victim.

She tried to wriggle from his grasp and walk away, but Cooper clung to her like a baby bird to its nest. He wouldn't let go—of Jess, of his faith in her—he wouldn't let go.

"Jess, honey, don't say that."

"Get off of me, please," Jess mumbled, still managing to use her manners even under the circumstances. Cooper sighed. He would miss that about her… He shook any bad thought from his head by smacking himself on the forearm and continued to cling onto his patient. Soon, she would no longer be his patient… Cooper smacked himself again on the forearm.

"No. We're going to fight this…all of us are going to fight this _together_," Cooper promised her. Jess' eyes caught spark for a moment, but like a dud match, it flickered away quickly.

"You mean it." The tone in her voice was melancholy, barely qualifying as a question. Cooper nodded and held out his pinky.

"Every CAT scan, surgery, therapy session, I'll be there. You'll be sick of me by the time this is all over. Pinky promise," Cooper said with a wink. He sounded far more convincing than he felt. Jess bought it, took in the sight of his finger jutting toward her, and finally laughed. The girlish quality in the laugh was forced and frayed, hanging in the air like a sour music note.

"Doctor Freedman, pinky promises are so childish," she remarked. Cooper, a big kid at heart, could not wrap his head around the fact that a fourteen year old possessed more maturity than him. When he was fourteen, he swore by the Pinky System. Then again, when he was fourteen, his parents were not getting a divorce and there was no possible brain tumor that could kill him. Cooper waggled his pinky in her face anyway. His mother always said, 'You can take Cooper out of the carnival, but you can't take the carnival out of Cooper'.

"Just do it," he said, the intensity in his face letting Jess know that it was imperative. To Cooper's surprise, Jess threw all of her weight against him instead of latching onto his pinky with her own. The hug nearly knocked the wind out of him; it was so unexpected and moving at the same time. Cooper could not allow himself to reciprocate the gesture, as Jess was now the one latching onto him.

In that one hug, their worlds collided. Their hopes, fears, and pains all came crashing into one another. Like a charged atoms, their positives and negatives clung together and created a shock, a wave of understanding, between the two.

When Jess pulled away from him, he could see the tears in her eyes. There was no holding back now, they were a team. "Thank you," she whispered. "See you at the scan?"

Cooper held up his pinky. "I'll be there. Boy's Scout's Honor," he assured her. Jess gave off a smile. It was small, but it was a start. As Jess headed toward the bathroom, Cooper caught a glimpse of Leah and Violet with a sideward glance at the front desk.

If there was anything more unnerving to him than seeing Jess and her mother suffer like this, it was watching how Violet dealt with it. Violet's harsh diagnosis for Jess' problem still rang in his ears. Charlotte he could imagine delivering the painstaking news the way it had been presented, but not Violet. For such a warm, open therapist, she had turned ice cold. She hadn't even inserted an apology afterward. Cooper was unsure if they had seen the same faces in the room, for he knew that if he were the one to do the job, he would have most likely broken down with them once he saw the faces on Jess and Leah. Cooper had scoured the sentence, played it over and over in his head as if it were his favorite song, because it was Violet. Surely, there had to be a tinge of sympathy in there _somewhere_; maybe he just missed it. Violet, after all, wasn't one to take the doctor persona seriously. She often became attached to each and every one of the patients that came in or out of the practice, regardless of whether they were hers or not. But from the get-go, she had seemed rigid, and almost annoyed, about this case. It was completely out of her element to be so bitter. She was _Violet_, Cooper reminded himself. She _had _to care.

Violet stood by Leah, explaining wavers and other important documents that no cared to read to the other woman. The same odd, uncaring tone was predominant in her voice, and it made Cooper's stomach lurch. Leah simply stared ahead. Like all mothers dawned upon with unsettling news, she was too preoccupied with the fact that she might lose one of the most important things to her to listen to where she should sign her name. Violet simply chattered away, medical jargon spewing from her mouth. Cooper crinkled his nose in disgust as he remembered the veterinarian of his old golden retriever that he owned when he was a kid, Doctor Anderson. The doctor was about as insensitive as it came, with the emotions of a rock. When his dog Paulie was dying of cardiac failure, the vet revealed the news to his family the same way Violet had to Jess. Under normal circumstances—check-ups, conversations— Doctor Anderson was friendly and almost human, but when it came to delivering the news of Cooper's beloved dog, he morphed into a doctor. Cooper would never forget the look on that man's face: unresponsive, blank, whipping out medical statistics. Cooper craned his head up toward Violet. His friend had become a completely different person…a monster.

Backtracking, Cooper tried to pinpoint the exact moment Violet changed. He was by her side majority of the time, he had to be there. He remembered a few weeks ago when he was first presented with this case. Violet seemed reluctant to assist him, but due to the fact that she could barely stand on her feet for more than five minutes, he could understand her incompetence. That couldn't have been the moment. Then there had been lunch with Sylvia…

Surely as waves crashed into the shore, it struck Cooper. A charge of realization pulsed through him as his brain blasted back to the morning Sylvia arrived. Since she had come home from that lunch date with her sister, Violet had become a smaller person emotion wise. She was timid, jumpy, and lifeless around the older woman that scared him so much. All he heard in his ear every morning at breakfast was another pointless 'Bobby's Football Game' story. And if it wasn't a story about Sylvia, it was a bark or bite toward Violet. He could only cringe as he imagined the two women growing up together. Without Sylvia, Violet was Violet Turner; with Sylvia, Violet was Doctor Anderson. The moment of truth came as a relief to him, for he knew his friend was still in that swollen body somewhere.

Before he knew it and had more time to assess the situation, Violet was at his side, shuffling through papers. Leah and Jess were nowhere in sight, probably embarking on their silent ride home. Cooper turned to her, took in the changes in her complexion, and sighed.

"I don't get it, Vi, why Jess?" he mumbled, doing it best to strike up a conversation. Violet nodded, never removing her eyes from the same spot in the middle of a lengthy paper.

"Yeah," she replied. "It sure sucks."

Cooper felt himself grow red, remembering the in depth conversations they used to have. He suddenly hated Sylvia more than he had before. "Well, it sucks that you had to be such a robot when you told them," Cooper snapped. He knew it was a pitiful line to pick a fight with, but he caught Violet's attention. She blinked at him, her facial expression a cross between confusion and boredom.

"I'm just doing my job, Coop," Violet answered innocently before shoving past him and into her office.

Cooper shuddered. It was the same thing Doctor Anderson had said before he told Cooper that his dog was going to die.

NAOMI

Naomi stood in shock, staring into the eyes of her ex-husband. How could he want to fire Dell? What would even provoke that crazy thought? The word crazy reminded her of the 'idiocy' Dell had used to describe the running of the practice in his infamous video and her questions were all suddenly answered. For a moment, she had forgotten about Dell's issues in the heat of her own.

"W—What?" Naomi stuttered finally. Sam's hard glare softened, as if he _just _realized that he wasn't talking to Dell, at her response.

"I said…" Sam began. Naomi held up her hand and cut him off. She circled the island in the middle of her lab, almost knocking over her new creation in her haste, to stand in front of Sam. He stood a head taller than her, but she knew after being with the man for a two-thirds of her life that she was a head fiercer.

"I know what you said. I mean 'what' as in 'are you crazy'? Dell is such an asset to the practice! You remember the last time we let him go?" Naomi shrieked, grateful that the lab was soundproof and therefore muted to the outside world. The look in Sam's eyes told her that he in fact _did _remember the last time, and she clamped her mouth shut to save him from the painful recollection.

"I know, Nae, and I agree with you…he's a good kid…but we have to think about that video…"

"Kids make mistakes! We can forgive him for it!" Naomi yelled, hot tears springing into her eyes blinding her. Sam was a dark blur before her, circling around her vision. She could hardly understand how she could possibly be sticking up for the boy who had managed to use every inappropriate word in a sentence to describe their workplace, but she had to take every other action of Dell's—the thoughtful ones, the positive ones—into account as well. She could see Sam's head bowing through the veil of tears.

"But would the government be willing to forgive _us_ for letting his mistake slide? Naomi, we have our reputation to think about as well here. The practice could be shut down because of a stupid Youtube video," Sam said, trying to reason with her. Naomi smashed her fist down on the counter, and the Petri dish spun around like a top. Naomi watched the spinning embryo as a distraction from Sam and Dell and sighed when it fell flat on its bottom, stopping on the countertop beside her microscope. He did have a good point, the practice could be shut down. If one local politician in the medical department saw Dell's rant, the practice would be shut down before any of them could say 'Youtube'. She hated to admit it, because admitting it would mean letting Dell go, but Sam had a valid point.

Naomi stared at the floor. Her eyes began to play tricks on her as the black and white tiles on the floor seemed to form a path out of the lab. Naomi swallowed hard. She could feel Sam's eyes on her back, watching her every little move like a hawk.

"Is there…any way we can keep the practice running and _not _fire Dell?" Naomi asked finally. Sam sighed, indicating that there obviously was. She knew the outcome would result in something far out of difficult, something that one would have to find in a caption of a handbook just to pinpoint. For Dell, she was willing to take that risk.

"There is…but it's extremely difficult, Naomi. Our best bet would be to just get rid of Dell," Sam answered defeatedly. Naomi could hardly believe her ears. She remembered the day they had hired Dell. She and Sam had been so proud of themselves for finding the best applicant out there, someone who was willing to do his job and excel at it. Where was that same pride in Sam now? And more importantly, where was that same personality in Dell? Years ago, the thought of doing anything to harm the practice and those who would have worked there would have sent Dell raging. Even so, the boy had gained a permanent residence in her heart. She hadn't entirely forgiven Dell for his mistake, but she was willing to let time do the healing. Couldn't Sam find it in himself to forgive Dell as well?

"Well," Naomi snapped, her patience wearing thin as the situation dawned upon her, "what is it?"

"We go to court to defend our practice," Sam told her, growing sweaty just talking about the subject.

She had been dropped off at a fork in the road, in the middle of the Robert Frost poem. On one hand, she could take the worn out road, the road more commonly traveled, and desert Dell to save herself. But as she looked to the side she could see the road less traveled by, calling to her. If she chose this road, it would mean putting the practice, her home, and the people she lived and loved it with, all on the line for a midwife. Logically, it would be easier to just travel the worn road, but Naomi was never one to settle for the easy way out.

Naomi looked into Sam's eyes, the eyes she had woken to for so long, and suddenly remembered his fear of court. The memories of him, which used to be so pristine, were slowly slipping from her, which worried her to think that in a few more years all of the special things she liked to remember about Sam—like the way his lip curled at the sight of sea food, or the way he yelled at the TV not because of a foul play in sports, but on a game show—may be forgotten. Sam had obviously been weighing the options and had settled for the easier path just to avoid taking the stand.

So what could she choose? Hurting Dell, or hurting Sam? The thought of doing either hurt Naomi.

Soon, another thought evaded her mind. She was no longer in charge of this facility, Addison was. So how did that explain why Sam came to _her_ with this problem and unnecessary stress, when her final decision meant nothing at all? She understood that she and Sam were friends, but that didn't take away from the fact that they were ex husband and wife, fighting over a practice that she was not head of. It angered Naomi that Sam would put the load on her. Why not Addison? Naomi understood that Addison had enough on her plate with Noah and Morgan, but didn't she have enough to chew with Bill's offer? She wanted to forgive Sam for doing this just as easily as she was willing to forgive Dell, but as she stared directly into those penetrating chocolate brown eyes, she felt her body shoot up to 110 degrees as they lit of the fiery embers deep inside her.

"Nae," Sam began, drawing out her name and extending his muscular arm in her direction. Naomi shriveled back, shaking her head. He couldn't touch her, for if he touched her, he would understand everything. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that led her away from the fact that Sam still remembered the little things about her—like the way her shoulders sagged when she was keeping secrets—as well. Not only that, but she was afraid of what she would feel if he touched her.

"No."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "No?" he asked. Naomi shook her head madly.

"No! No! You don't get to do this to me! You don't get to come to me with problems about the practice that I was unable to control and had to be demoted from managing! You don't get to put me through the wringer for Dell's mistake! You don't get to remind me about your fear of court! You don't get to do this to me, Sam!"

"Naomi, I…"

"No, Sam! This is unfair! I shouldn't have to worry about these things anymore, because it's all out of my reach. If I were still in charge, I would stop at nothing to keep Dell _and _the practice around, you know that."

"You don't have to be in charge to do your part," Sam grumbled, his voice reminding her of the low rumble of thunder before a huge storm hit. Naomi's mouth flew open at the comment.

"Excuse me?"

"I said…you know what…you don't get to do this to _me_," Sam finally argued, turning the tables on her. Naomi stood, frozen as a rail.

"What?" Naomi hissed. Again, the wonder: Did Sam know about the other job offer? He had to know, and he used Dell's issue as a cover. That had to be the only explanation. Sam's eyes sure told her that she was correct. The ball was in her court now, and what was she supposed to say? She was too riled up to even speak a coherent sentence, let alone admit the biggest secret that was eating her alive. She was about to open her mouth and own up when Sam stepped back.

"I think that this whole best friends thing, what we're doing, is too hard, Naomi. I care about you even though we are divorced; I _can't _handle hearing about everyone you are dating and what you're doing with them. I thought I could…but I just can't, especially when your dating pool is everyone I know," Sam admitted, his voice dropping three octaves. Naomi's heart swelled with relief once again. In addition to the pain from Sam's words, her heart ached. She had no idea that she was hurting him by trying to mend things with him.

"And I shouldn't have to! You come to _me _when you want to talk about unfair," Sam added, inching towards the door. Naomi stopped him with a sigh.

"So what are you saying?" Naomi drawled at last. Sam shook his head, his eyes fixated on another world far away from her little lab.

"We can't be friends anymore, Nae. We can work this thing with Dell out together, or we can talk to Addison, but we can't do any of it as best friends. I think we just both need some distance. I'll see you when you want to talk."

The door was slightly ajar when she caught up to him and grabbed his shoulder, whirling him around.

"Where the heck did the idea of having to take things to court come up anyway?" Naomi asked, her voice still booming. She was still reeling over the sudden loss of her best friend. "Couldn't we just apologize for Dell's mistake and let it go?"

Sam laughed, though it was far from a humorous one. He shook his head, raised his hands, and shouted, "Because your precious boyfriend _Duncan_ came in and presented me with the options, okay!" he screamed back, instantly shrinking his intensity level. Clearly, this was not supposed to be something he blurted out.

Naomi saw what was at the end of both roads, and neither outcome was pretty.

_But forever came and went  
Forever stumbled through  
Forever had poor sense of time and made a mess of me and you  
Forever had us fooled  
We fell for it again  
Now time is standing still forever_

**Hey everyone! So here you have it, the next installment. The Naomi/Sam in my opinion is getting a little redundant, but again, I wanted to take a different spin on the whole, "We can't be friends" speech. I'll work on spicing things up next time for them...or you may think it's good, I dunno...either way, let me know. And Violet going all SIR YES SIR in this chapter made me miss the old Violet, so I cooked up a little idea involving her, Lisa, and an elevator to make things a little more fun ;) Next chappie is all about Dell and Layla, so look forward to that. Thanks a bunch for reading (which the numbers are amazing for, by the way) and special thanks to VioletPeteFan for the review last chapter! As for the rest of you, get on dat button and REVIEW!!! **

**-ILoVeWicked**


	15. I Should Tell You

**Disclaimer: If I owned anything, the season finale wouldn't be nearly as crazy as it was. Shonda and her crazy little idea box owns all. **

**I Should Tell You**

_I should tell you I'm disaster  
I forget how to begin it  
__Let's just make this part go faster  
I have yet to be in it  
_

DELL

Rape. It made perfect sense to him now. Why he couldn't see it before and put the pieces together himself, he supposed it was from the actual shock of it all. Layla did not look like the type of girl who had been violated. For one thing, she was cheery, exuberant. Dell knew for a fact that when someone was physically, mentally, or sexually abused, they were miserable and secluded. Not happy and talkative like the young woman.

Also, Layla was willing to further investigate her predicament. Dell had seen many girls, by the washed-out, terrified looks on their faces, rape victims, come in and out of the practice for abortions, but none for a sonogram.

It was a subject he knew all too well. Dell's mind was somewhere hazy as thoughts of his sick, abusive father and lowlife mother clouded his vision and sent him stirring in his sleep. Once another nightmare involving his father's favorite game involving a belt and handcuffs awoke him for the fifth time that hour, he presumed that even attempting to sleep would just be pointless. Though the nasty subject, which he had stored away in a metal box in the very back of the Dell Vault, would remain in his head for a while, he supposed staying up and occupying himself would be better than closing his eyes and reliving his childhood.

Coffee subdued the pain for a moment, the hot liquid tingling his taste buds as the burning settled on his tongue. Since falling asleep to the blue flashes on his bedroom wall emitted from the television when he was a child, Dell flickered on the TV, hoping it would be to some avail. Reruns of old, classic shows seemed to be all that was on. Then again, it was three o'clock in the morning. Pins and needles ran up and down his thigh as he picked himself up from the couch to refill his caffeinated thirst.

_Why Layla? _he wondered. Images of the girl he had met that day, so bubbly, so excited about her life, despite the fact that it was restricted. She was the last person he would expect to have been hurt in such a fashion…and the last person he _wanted_ to get hurt in that fashion.

Dell sought comfort on the couch, a beer replacing the coffee. He gripped the cool glass bottle to his hairline, anticipating that it would edge the bullets of sweat off of his forehead. Like most antidotes he tested that night, the cold beer did nothing for his glistening body.

Though he knew for a fact the late night and his exhaustion were not enough to allow him to drift off, Dell reached beside the couch and set his alarm for 5:30 in the morning. He couldn't be late for work.

_PRIVATE PRACTICE_

Naomi looked pleasantly surprised to see him that morning. Without words, she simply showed her satisfaction with a smile. There was something different about Naomi's smile, Dell noted. He could see the cracks around the edges and the agony of unknown problems. Dell cringed as he mused over the possible border-line tragedies. He watched as the morning continued and Addison, Violet, Pete, Cooper, and Sam all walked in with that same smile. He suddenly didn't feel completely alone in this cold, cruel world.

Dell decided to listen to some music while he filed some patient's documents. He pulled up Youtube and, without so much as a glance to the biggest video on the home page, began listening to some old Beatles tunes. The clanking sound as the filing cabinet opening and closing sent him dozing off. The all-nighter he had pulled last night reminded him of why he would come in late for work all those days. Catching up on his sleep, which was a struggle for him considering all he had to reflect upon, was vital. Dell yawned and bent over to pick up the next file. He nearly dropped it in repulsion as he read the name on the manila tab in the top right hand corner of the folder. Layla.

Karma was a ghost, wreaking havoc until its unfinished business was completed. Karma was lurking around him, a constant rainy cloud over his head. Karma was laughing in his face. For a moment, he felt the breath of his father, his breath permanently tinted with alcohol, his rough stubble, his wicked sneer, against his face. Dell slipped into a coma of rage.

He heard someone above him cough softly. Dell ignored it, presuming it was just Addison or Naomi needing a service from him, and continued working.

"Dell—I mean, Doctor Parker?" A familiar voice addressed him meekly. Dell's head whipped upward as karma slapped him hard across the face. Layla stood, one arm around Kyleigh and the other around her abdomen, behind the front desk. Judging by the look on her tortured, yet angelic face, she had seen his whole internal rant towards precarious forces of nature.

"Layla, hey!" Dell greeted, shooting up to his feet and sending papers from Layla's file fluttering to the ground. Dell had never lived outside of sunny California, but when Layla's personal documents created a blanket of white over his feet and sent a shiver up his spine, he understood what snow looked and felt like. Dell's cheeks flushed bright red. The last thing he wanted to do was to be caught snooping.

Layla smiled. It looked far different than it had the day before. Either that, or Dell just had not noticed the ache behind the beauty before. Obviously Layla would never be the same after such a tragedy. She would be emotionally disturbed and physically in pain. Anger could very easily envelope her at any minute. Dell was almost fearful for Kyleigh. One dumb move in her anger, and Layla could lose her daughter, like he had done.

"I just wanted to apologize for…yesterday. I was…out of line," Layla said, expressing her regret. Dell did not nod in agreement. He did not want to give Layla the satisfaction. He would not let Layla make the same mistake he made: blaming herself.

"So, anyway, I was hoping you wouldn't think I'm a total freak," Layla went on. Dell shook his head as soon as she inhaled to start her next sentence.

"I don't think you're a freak…at all. People react to news differently," Dell told her, being careful to not lead her onto the fact that he had sleuthed around for her. Layla's smile showed a genuine gratitude. She set her daughter down and instructed her to go hang out in the lobby with the other children.

"Good! That's great! Because I was…well, I was wondering…since we have so much in common…" A pink blush dashed across her freckly cheeks. Dell understood what she was trying to say, and it made his heart flutter with excitement. He leaned toward her, his elbows balancing his head as he attempted to play coy.

"Layla," Dell began, "I would love to take you out sometime." Layla beamed and clapped her hands together. At that moment, Kyleigh came trotting back up to her mother and latched onto her leg.

"Mommy, can we _please _go to the park now? You _promised_!" Kyleigh asked, putting on a very dramatic pout. Dell watched the carbon copy of Layla beg for her park rights and couldn't help but laugh. He had almost forgotten how keen a six-year-old's memory could be. Layla rolled her eyes and ruffled Kyleigh's auburn locks.

"Sure thing, baby. Just give Mom a minute to talk to this nice man," Layla explained to Kyleigh, who in turn rolled her eyes and sauntered off. Dell laughed at Kyleigh's innocence; the importance of bonding with her parent was just as important to her as it was being at the park, and Dell knew that fact too well. Dell thought of Betsy and shivered. He remembered stumbling over his video camera and a box of old tapes that morning, reading the labels. Betsy's milestones were in that box, and they may have been the closest to her he would ever be again.

Turning his attention back to Layla in a desperate bid to forget about Betsy and Heather, he watched as she winked at him and grabbed his clammy hand. The tip of the ballpoint pen was as cold as ice on his palm as Layla engraved her phone number.

"So I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" Dell asked, his voice tinted with hope. Layla sighed and placed a hand on his cheek. Dell could literally feel his heart thumping out of his chest in her direction. Layla smiled, all hints of the previous day's hysteria vanishing.

"Dell, if you pile enough tomorrows up, you end up with a lot of empty yesterdays," she whispered. Dell reared back, his face twisting in humor.

"Did you just quote 'The Music Man' to me?" he asked, a laughter rising in his throat. Layla shrugged, nodded, and started giggling, and he joined in. Even still, he could still see some level of distress in the way she slouched and the way her giggles were short-lived, hesitant.

The new light-hearted take on the conversation was refreshing to him, just what he needed to get himself through the rest of the dreary work day without thinking about his father, Layla's predicament, or the dry spell of patients he was going through. Lately, each and every one of the patients Addison would allow Dell to take over for her came up with a lame excuse or bolted for the door at the sight of him. It made Dell wonder what could possibly be irking all of these people.

Layla was halfway to the elevator when he returned from his thoughts. "See you tonight, Dell. Call me."

_PRIVATE PRACTICE_

"You know, I've gone out a lot since Kyleigh was born, but _never_ has it been this much fun!" Layla admitted, throwing her arms toward the sky, the far away worlds, and twirling around.

Dell laughed, strolling beside her. All they had done that night was go out to dinner and a movie. Either her other outings did not consist of the stereotypical date material, or the men who had invited her had been duller company than him. For some reason, Dell found himself in a sulky mood. He supposed it was because he watched Layla, in her entire beauty, and wondered what sick, cruel human being would do such a vile thing to another. Then again, his own father had done that same thing to his son, so the scenario wasn't entirely unbelievable. Still, he thought he had escaped the world of whips and inappropriate touching and pain a long time ago. Layla's story was hitting too close to home for him.

To wind down and mix things up, Dell had decided to take her for a walk in the park. It was another bad choice on his behalf, for although he enjoyed Layla's moseying around at his side, Betsy had loved to come to this park. Her favorite attraction, the swings, were coming into view. Memories of him and his daughter pumping higher and higher, kicking all of their troubles away, came back and stung Dell in the form of tears. He grunted and pulled Layla off in another direction.

Layla rested her head on his shoulder. Her arms slowly coiled around his waist, a boa constrictor tightening its grip on its prey. Dell whooped for air and looked down at her. He was relieved to see that she was at least smiling amidst her grip of protection.

"No, really, Dell, I'm having a great time with you," Layla told him. Honesty radiated in a halo above her head. Dell felt himself growing warm. The feeling of having someone actually enjoying his presence was overwhelming.

"I mean, you and I get each other, you know?" she continued as they found a small hill, secluded from the rest of the park, and began climbing it. Her hand began to entwine with his, and he did not reject it. He supposed it was wrong to be dating a patient, just like he had judged Pete for with Ben and his mother Lisa. But sitting on the top of a hill with Layla, looking out into a sea of stars, washed all of the rules and premonitions away. How could something so wrong feel so right? Dell nodded.

"Yeah." It was all he could bring himself to say. Layla did not seem to mind his simple answers, as she kept talking. Not that Dell minded, though. Her voice, let alone the words that were strewn into it, acted as a giant safety blanket to him. It gave him comfort, inner peace, and hope for the future.

"We both have children at this age, little girls at that…do you know how many guys I've gone out with that have freaked out at the very thought of my daughter? To most guys my age, she's like a deadly disease or something," Layla repeated, her voice growing sad.

Dell knew the feeling, and he knew how much Heather hated being considered old and stupid just because of Betsy. He remembered the nights when Heather would come to him, drunk, high, angry as anything and drop Betsy off at his doorstep explaining to the both of them that Betsy was ruining her life. Dell would comfort his daughter as she cried herself to sleep those nights. Being unloved was something humans could not muster the thought of. Love was the main thing the species thrived on. Without love, life could not go on, and people could not live without a love to hold onto.

"Same here," Dell answered. Layla smiled slightly at him and rubbed her slender thumb along his fingers. She found each and every crevice in his hand and lingered there for a moment before continuing. He hoped the small answers were not turning her away from him, because uninterested was a completely off guess.

"Did you…I mean…how did you react when you found out?" Layla asked, blushing crimson. Dell felt himself grow hot as the conversation took the exact direction he had prayed she would derive from. He stared up at the stars, wondering if Betsy was staring up at the same night sky in Missouri.

"I…um…honestly, I freaked out. I went to my room, threw some things, called Heather and freaked out some more. I convinced her to go and get an abortion; thank goodness she backed out at the last minute," Dell admitted, feeling like a fool. Layla and her precious Jake probably rose to the challenge right away. Dell tore his eyes away from the sky, anticipating for her to scream at him, run away, something along those lines. To his surprise, Layla's mouth was as closed as can be. She was not gaping at him. There was no judgment in her caramel eyes.

"Honestly, I did the same thing. Jake handled it way better than me. At the time, I thought the most important thing was popularity and cheerleading. I didn't want my perfect body ruined, I didn't want to go through labor, and I didn't want to be made fun of. So I left to get an abortion despite my parents' and Jake's wishes, but once I saw that baby on the cover of _Parenting Magazine_, cheeky and smiling, I couldn't do it. I was going to give her up for adoption, but once Ky came into this world…I couldn't let her go."

"I know what you mean," Dell said, finally opening up his inner Daddy. "The second I held Betsy in my arms and looked at those perfect fingers, those perfect blue eyes, I knew I was sticking to her forever."

But sticking to Betsy was virtually impossible now. Layla beamed, her teeth glowing in the darkness.

"I'm sure you had people judging you left and right," Layla guessed, plucking at blades of grass and tossing them toward the wind. They caught like a blazing green fire. Dell shrugged.

"Not so much me, but Heather got a lot of crap. It's tougher for the mom, I suppose. After all, you do have the evidence right in front of you," Dell told her. Truth be told, he received more punishment through his parents lashings than any passerby could have given Heather, but he would never admit that aloud. Layla's hand fell on her flattened stomach, where the baby of a disgusting man rested.

"Yeah, it kind of sucked, but it was all worth it when Kyleigh came along. At first, I was like, 'Omigod, what do I do?' with her, but Jake and I got into the swing of things pretty quickly, and my parents helped out a lot while we were at school and stuff. But I'm glad to know that we're in the same boat."

Dell remembered the first few weeks of Betsy's life, and how he was left alone to care for her while Heather gallivanted around with her friends and his parents neglected him. Not to mention the drug abuse that went on during and after the pregnancy for him and Heather. He was certain that they were not in the same boat, rather he had been drowning in a sunken ship while Layla, Jake, her baby and her parents cruised by on their yacht. He nodded slowly.

"Uh, huh. It's great that things worked out with you and Kyleigh."

"Well, I can't wait to meet Betsy. She sounds sweet."

Dell was sweating, gleaming in the moonlight. Not only was she already thinking of mingling families, but she was mentioning the most touchy subject. Betsy's very existence to him was unknown. Was she safe, cold, scared? He wouldn't know. And now, he was supposed to respond to Layla, who was watching him with expectation. At first, he was going to lie, to opt for saying that Layla would get to meet Betsy someday. But as he looked into her sincere eyes, he could not bring himself to lie. Dell sighed.

"She's…um…with her mother in Missouri, I think. Heather took her a few weeks ago to go out for a job and I haven't heard from them since. I miss her," he told Layla.

An ant was trudging its way past him. Dell squished his thumb against the bug hard, rubbing it into the dirt. The ant's carcass now engraved in the dirt, Dell's pulled his head upward to come face to face with Layla, tears streaming down her face.

Wordlessly, she leaned forward, took his face in her hands, and pulled him against her lips. Dell, though at first startled, kissed back. Never before had he kissed someone and knew right then and there that they understood him completely. Never before had he met someone so beautiful, so perfect, so exactly like him. Never before had he fallen head over heels in love with someone so quickly.

When they pulled up for air, they were smugly grinning at one another. Dell hadn't felt this alive since the day Betsy was born. The dream suddenly shattered before him, Pandora's Box breaking loose and sending reality zooming at his face. In an instant, Layla was shaking in his arms. Dell slowly enveloped her as her shoulders shook wildly. Her hair, as he ran his hand through it, was knotty and coarse, far from what he had seen and imagined when he met Layla. In an instant, Layla had become the same emotional wreck she had been when she found the news of her unborn child.

"Dell, I don't know what to do about _this_ baby. I could handle it before, I had Jake, and my mom and dad, but I've only lived in the city alone with Kyleigh for a year and I…I…"

Dell knew that the difficulty of finding her words in her confession was a difficult thing. But he also knew that helpful encouragement, for instance from his shrink in his later teens, was best for Layla to feel relieved. Slowly, he began rubbing her back with his index and middle finger. He was repulsed to discover that he had absentmindedly written 'RAPE' on her back in capital letters. The word stood bold and clear on Layla's body before the fabric stretched and contracted from Layla's labored breathing and erased it.

"You what, Layla?" he whispered. She clung onto his shirt, her face and his clothing now soaked.

"I was…violated by someone on my way home from work. I just remember him _touching _and _hurting _me and I remember waking up in the hospital with the biggest bruises and scrapes. He left me out on the street to _die_, Dell, and some kind man escorted my disgusting naked body all the way to the hospital. I just wanted to get _him _out of my head. I thought forgetting about it and never talking about it would make it all go away. But then I started getting sick, and I knew what that meant from the first time around." Her body trembled like a wet leaf. Dell felt tears moisten in his eyes, remembering how he used to be touched and hurt.

"I don't want to kill this baby, that's the last thing I want to do," Layla told him. "But I don't know if I can have it and raise it and know where it came from. That would be unfair to the child…"

"You're the only person I would ever feel comfortable telling all this to," she mumbled. Her eyes were suddenly on him, tears met tears, and she placed her head on Dell's rumbled shirt, right over his stomach. Her head moved up and down with his breathing as she watched a plane fly overhead. Dell leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"Whatever you choose, you're not the bad person for doing it. You need to do what your heart feels is right, and I bet that you are going to be okay. No, I _promise _you that you are going to be okay."

Layla sniffled. "How are you so good at this? Being so positive, I mean," she asked, and Dell sighed. He figured if she was so truthful as to share her rape story then he should join in.

"My dad used to sexually abuse me when I was younger. Believing in what is possible and staying positive are the only things I know," Dell admitted. Layla simply nodded, reacting to this bit of news like she had to all other bits before.

"We're like a freaking match-made in heaven, aren't we," Layla said finally with a grave laugh. Dell looked back up at the stars and sighed.

"Yeah."

_Trusting desire  
__Starting to learn  
Walking through fire without a burn  
__Clinging a shoulder, a leap begins  
Stinging and older asleep on pins_

**Hello again! Here's the next chappie for you all. It took me forever to write, mainly because Dell and Layla aren't really my favorite couple to write for (me and my tendencies to create unnesscary OC's did it, I swear!) but hey, I gotta do what I gotta do to keep the story rolling, right? Hopefully you guys actually _like _Layla; I'm trying to make her as least annoying as possible. So next chapter has a lot in store for you: Violet and Lisa ride the elevator alone together (cue the Jaws theme), Addison has some more mental conflict involving Noah and Morgan, and Jess finds out if she has a tumor or not. Stay tuned! Thanks for reading and be sure to drop a lil review!**

**-ILoVeWicked**


	16. Invisible

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Invisible**

_She can't see the way your eyes  
Light up when you smile  
She'll never notice how you stop and stair when ever she walks by  
And you can me wanting you the way you want her  
But you are everything to me_

VIOLET

Fingering her old, worn gold necklace, Violet rode the elevator to the fifth floor in utter silence. For one thing, she was disturbed with the fact that a fourteen year old girl was on the verge of death. Cooper had pointed out that she had done _nothing _to console Jess and her mother, that she had acted like a robot. Violet, on the other hand, disagreed. She had simply taken her sister's advice.

_PRIVATE PRACTICE_

_Gnawing on her pen, Violet sat cross-legged on her floor, Katie Kent's case strewn out in front of her. The look on her patient's face when she was told that her child, the baby she had looked forward to for so long, was dead had racked Violet back and forth that whole day. Raising Katie's file to eye-level, Violet scanned the paper for any possible way Katie could try again. After all, she had gone through so much mentally, and then the baby came along, and Katie was finally happy. She was finally starting to make progress. Violet sighed; just thinking of what this tragedy would do to her patient made her eyes prick with tears. _

_"Vi? What are you doing up at three in the morning? You know that isn't good for the baby, right?" Sylvia's far-from-concerned voice asked as she made her way down the stairs. Violet sniffled and turned the paper over, careful to keep the information away from Sylvia's field of view. _

_"It's just…this patient I have. She was pregnant, and her baby died today. She was making huge strides, and now…" _

_She finally let the tears spill from her eyes and she heard Sylvia's 'tsk, tsk' behind her. Her sister knelt beside her and draped Violet's hair over her shoulder. Violet looked into Sylvia's chilling blue eyes, not knowing what to expect. _

_"Violet, Sweetie, you can't let yourself get so involved with your silly patients and their little problems. It's only making _you _go insane," Sylvia told her gently. Katie was not silly, and her problem was far from little, but Violet kept her mouth shut anyway. Objecting at this point would be useless. Sylvia had proclaimed herself as Ruler of the House, and everything Ruler of the House says goes. _

_"You just need to tell them like it is. Do your job, Violet, and keep your personal feelings out of it," Sylvia instructed, hoisting herself up from her perch on the ground and dancing back to the foot of the stairs. _

_"Sweet dreams, little sis!" Sylvia whispered cheerily before galloping away. Anger burned in the back of Violet's throat; she wanted to run to her sister and scream that she was wrong. Part of her job was empathy. Part of her _personality_ was empathy. _

_She turned back to her papers, remembering all of the times her patients' lives had gotten in the way of her own life, preventing her emotions from taking a normal course. The countless nights she had spent crying over a case when she could have been out having fun sat before her in a deflated pile. The hours she had spent on research for her clients when she could have been taking a break, some time for herself, lingered in the air into nothingness. To her dismay, Sylvia was right. She needed to do her job. _

_Jess Finch was the perfect opportunity to get the job done. _

_PRIVATE PRACTICE_

In addition to the ongoing debate over that situation in her head, the baby was giving her a rough time that morning. Kicking and rolling around blissfully inside of her, Violet cringed and held onto her stomach, praying child could sense her pleading to stop. Along with the pounding in her head and lower abdomen, there was the rattling and rumbling of the elevator. It was long overdue for a repair, and the shaky ride kept her tense. The elevator had nerve, and Violet was just all nerves.

The elevator came to a sudden jolted stop and Violet nearly flew forward. Growling at the elevator gods, she was so preoccupied with the fact that she nearly almost fell over and would have most likely not have been able to get up that she did not notice who had stepped into the elevator with her.

When she finally divided her eyes from the ceiling, Violet felt the blood nearly drain from her face. She was less than a foot away from Lisa, Pete's girlfriend.

The baby's kicking ceased right away. Penetrating green eyes were now on her, scrutinizing her. Violet observed that Lisa seemed less bubbly to come across Violet. That seemed to be the reaction with most lately, Violet lamented. But there was something else, something about the way Lisa stared at her with a cautious yet definitive glare, that told her there was more to the story. If at all possible, Lisa looked nearly as uncomfortable to be in this elevator as Violet felt.

Violet, still aware of Lisa's stare, examined the other woman from head to toe. She had not really had enough time to fully assess the woman, not while Pete was in the room and taking up half her attention. Much to Violet's disappointment, Lisa was every bit as perfect as Pete had molded her out to be with his descriptions of her. She was almost certain that she looked like chopped liver compared to Lisa's filet mignon. Lisa truly was beautiful. She even had a smile to match. Violet almost stepped back. Lisa was _smiling_—at _her—_which meant that she was expecting _her _to say something first. Violet took a deep breath. Anything to get her out of this staring contest.

"Um…hi," Violet began dumbly, wanting to smack herself in the head. Lisa's smile grew wider and Violet fought the urge to throw up. Violet could hardly remember the last time she had smiled, though Lisa was obviously doing enough of it for the entire human race.

"Hey! Violet, right?" Lisa greeted, extending her hand to be shaken. Violet took the soft creamy hand in hers and shook it cautiously. The peculiar look in Lisa's very fake smile told her that she had never truly let Violet's name slip from her memory. Violet nodded.

"Yeah. It's so nice to see you again," Violet lied.

"You too," Lisa said. "You heading to work?" Violet nodded.

"Uh huh. I'm guessing you're visiting Pete," Violet stated, grimacing at his name. Lisa beamed at the sound of the four letter word and bobbed her head.

"Yeah, he's meeting me and Ben for breakfast," Lisa stated, still grinning like a Doctor Suess character.

It was then she noticed that Lisa had a familiar glow about her. It was not the same 'glow' that Violet had mistaken as sunburn during the beginning of her pregnancy, but the glow someone usually gave off after a great night of passion. The baby kicked her hard in the ribs as Violet remembered Lisa's current love interest. Violet felt her throat close up as she thought of Lisa in Pete's strong arms, Lisa's lips on Pete's lips, Lisa shouting his name. As much as she wanted to shake away any bad images, all she could do was think about Pete and how he had betrayed her. After all, she was the one preparing for the child that very well might be his.

_Might _be his…right.

Violet realized that she had been watching Lisa for too long when the skinnier woman's eyes began darting around the small, enclosed space. Apparently, Violet was not the _only _one looking for an escape.

"Um…I like your…headband," Violet complimented pathetically, receiving a small breath of laughter from Lisa as she touched the fabric on her head.

"Oh, yeah, a friend from the PTA knitted this for me. I just love the color orange," Lisa replied. Violet smiled; she hated small talk as much as the next therapist, but she would never admit that to her worthy competitor.

"Who doesn't?" she responded with forced enthusiasm. Both girls laughed, in pain, before the laughs died down and they each looked to opposite corners of the elevator. Violet jumped when Lisa sighed, breaking the silence that had been suffocating them.

"Look, I know about the baby and how it might be Pete's," Lisa admitted, throwing Violet a fastball. Strike one had been getting stuck in the elevator with her, strike two had been noticing the glow, and strike three had hit her hard in the gut. Lisa knew all along—that would explain the odd looks and the awkward fragmented sentences. Violet was out. She swallowed hard and suppressed a smile.

"You do? I mean—you do! Pete told you…all about _that_," Violet said, catching herself from leading Lisa onto her displeasure. She could already tell that Lisa had done the judging Violet's 'Who's Your Daddy?' predicament in private. Lisa frowned slightly before continuing.

"Yeah, he wanted to start things off being honest. And I just wanted to say that it doesn't change a thing between any of us. I really admire your bravery, actually," Lisa continued, rambling nervously. Violet gulped. This had to be the single longest elevator ride she had ever had the pleasure of gracing. She would rather deal with a million psychos than go through this again, that was for sure.

"What?"

"You know, being a single mother is tough, especially for one who works full time like you," Lisa quipped. Violet really wished she would shut up. The thought of raising this baby all alone had never occurred to her until Lisa had mentioned it. Sure, Sheldon and Pete were around in the beginning, but now Pete had found this beautiful woman with the perfect little boy he could take under his wing, and it wouldn't be long before Sheldon found a woman of his own. Before she knew it, her son or daughter would receive visits once every few months from Pete, his lovely wife and step-son, their four other children and their chocolate lab Brandy.

"Oh, yeah," Violet answered glumly. Lisa finally seemed to catch onto just how much of a damper she was putting on Violet's morning and her perfect green eyes grew wide. Doing Violet a huge favor, Lisa said nothing more. Their prayers were answered when the doors of the elevator creaked open to reveal the normal world of the practice, bustling with the every day issues of infertile couples and ailing people.

Violet sighed with relief, but soon felt a new embarrassment when both Lisa and her collided while heading for the exit first. The largeness of her stomach was no help to the matter as both women were wedged between the two doors. Violet laughed nervously and stepped back, gesturing toward the front desk. Sanity was so close she could almost taste it.

"After you," she insisted, using her best manners. Sylvia would have been proud. Lisa smiled hesitantly before striding past her. Violet was out in the clearing now. As if she forgot something, Lisa turned back around and placed Violet back in the dizzy shame spiral.

"Do you want me to tell Pete you said hi?" she asked. It was an innocent question; she had good intentions after all. Violet thought of Lisa, simply radiant in her wedding gown and rehearsing her vows to Pete while she, the lone wolf, stood in the corner of the church with a spit rag over her shoulder. She smiled again, her jaw starting to get sore from all the force put on it, and shook her head slowly.

"No, thanks."

Violet sighed. Next time, she was taking the stairs.

ADDISON

"Oh, boy! This is so exciting! Noah is missing out _big _time!" Morgan cheered, her exhilaration borderline annoying.

Addison pressed a smile as she prepared Morgan's final sonogram. Time flew by like a jet plane; Morgan's due date was the next week. In one week, Noah would be a father. And where was he? Addison shuddered as she thought of Noah, working hard on a patient. Work took precedence over Morgan and his child as far as devotion went. Addison could see him now: his sharp chin pointed upward, his eyes focused and attentive, his mouth twisted into a scowl as he examined a CAT scan. He could be doing that any time. This child was a once in a lifetime chance—no, a miracle—for him and his wife, and he was spending his time at the hospital.

"Do you have any names picked out yet?" Addison asked, knowing that today was a day to focus on Morgan and her baby and not the man who was trying to tear her away from that. Morgan nodded from her perch on the table.

"Well, I like Amanda for a girl and Darwin for a boy," Morgan replied, a dopey smile on her face as she did so. It was reassuring to know that something was bringing Morgan joy. Even in the worst case scenario, Morgan would have this baby to cherish and adore. Addison kept her eyes fixated on the screen, knowing that looking at Morgan for longer than five seconds would impact her emotions to a whole new level.

"And Noah?" She could hear Morgan's outward sigh and cringed to herself.

"He says he's not really sure…but he _did_ tease me by saying that we would be cruel parents for naming our kid Darwin," Morgan said with a playful chuckle.

It angered Addison in some ways, for Noah's negligence of Morgan and the baby reminded her of how much she was like Morgan just a few years ago. Derek would spend more and more time at work, more and more time focusing on other things than her, and she sat and waited for him, slowly breaking, each night. Eventually their marriage had worn down to nothing so much to the point where she had to cheat on Derek just to feel loved and full again. Right before her very eyes, she could Morgan going through the same thing.

There was one sole difference between Addison and Morgan. Though she still held on that last strand of hope with all her might, just like Addison had, Morgan was nowhere near as depressed over her husband's absence as Addison was. And if she was hiding it only for her doctor's sake, Morgan was doing a convincing job at it. She could see the cracks in Morgan's smile—they were undeniable—but Morgan was still doing her best to make _herself_ feel better. As Sam always preached from his book, "Self-help should be first sought." Addison sighed, if only she had been given the chance to read Sam's healing methods _before _her divorce. Maybe she would still be happily living in New York with Derek and not moping over a married man.

Addison quickly rattled her head to remove the thought. She and Derek were happy, on terms, and grateful for where they were now, and they had established that with each other long before Noah and his family ever came into the picture.

In most ways, Morgan was failing. Failing to see the truth, that is. Her persistence in keeping Addison as her doctor and her virtuousness towards Noah would be the farthest thought in reach if Morgan knew what was going on between her husband and her doctor. Addison grimaced. On certain levels, she thought it was awfully selfish of Morgan to cling onto something she was well aware was not hers anymore. But the cruel reminder that Noah did not belong to Addison either dissipated any stabs at Morgan.

_Addison _was the bad guy, she reminded herself. Not Noah for tempting her, not Morgan for clinging onto him, but _her, _for giving into all of it.

She shook her head and ridded the ongoing battle from her thoughts. The same thing seemed to happen every day. All hopes of dreaming about beaches and flying were lost to the thrilling nightmares Noah gave her. Instead, she pulled the screen over to Morgan to show off her beautiful son or daughter. Morgan was all smiles when Addison pointed to the blue bulb moving in rhythm with the faced-paced heartbeat coming from the monitor.

"See that? That's your baby's head. And right there? Those are the feet."

Morgan sniffled and slowly cupped her hands over her mouth. Her teary eyes squinted in delight.

"That's my baby! It's so much bigger!" she wiped a tear from under her eye and laughed to herself. "You must think I'm a huge loser. I've seen this kid so many times, but I dunno. I guess this time is extra special." She hoisted her huge self up and leaned inward, her nose inches from the sonogram screen. Her fingers waggled as she gave her baby a teary greeting.

"Hello, sweet angel. Mommy and Daddy can't wait to meet you," Morgan said before blowing her child a kiss.

Addison felt her breathing hitch. Alone. Morgan was all alone. And _she _was to blame for it. Noah was at the hospital. If had even showed up, he would have only had eyes for one person in the room. Love swelled all around her, with each falling tear from Morgan's eyes. But half a mile away from them, Noah's heart swelled for a completely different love.

It was at that moment she felt something wet and warm hit her knee. Addison reached up to her rosy cheek to catch a falling tear with her ring finger. Addison held out her hand in front of her face, the tear placed perfectly on the middle of her finger. The salty drop caught the light and nearly blinded Addison with the situation at hand. She was caught in the sticky web that Noah had strung, caught between what her head was telling her to avoid and what her heart was telling her to go for.

So it was no surprise to her when Noah walked in, acting as if he had been in a hurry. His deep breathing was way off and there was not a drop of sweat on his body (not that she was looking). Clearly, Noah had taken the time to enjoy the lovely, sunny day.

"Hey, sorry I'm late, I've got a lot to do at work and there's only a little bit of my lunch break left," Noah mustered up the excuse, planting a kiss on Morgan's cheek. Morgan lingered in the moment before smiling at him and pointing to the screen.

"Look, Honey! That's our baby!" she exclaimed. When Noah laid eyes on the sonogram, his face fell ten feet. Nervously laughing, he kept his eyes on the screen.

"Would you look at that?" was all he could say. Addison could see the cogs and wheels turning in his head as he studies the image of his child. Morgan's face now fell.

Addison sought reform by staring out the window. She longed to escape the room and drive her convertible far away from Los Angeles for a while. Addison deserved a vacation after all she had gone through the past two years. Noah's beeper finally broke the devastating silence. He grumbled something inaudible and glanced at the little machine.

"I've got to get back to the hospital, Morgan. See you in a few hours," he told her briskly, sweeping a light kiss over her cheek. Morgan grabbed his hanging head in the nick of time and pulled him over her lips. Addison watched in restraint. She was unable to feel jealous and yet still unable to be moved.

Suddenly, those dark, lustful eyes were on her. Noah stood a little too close to her as he said, "Thanks for…everything." Addison stared up at him, regretting doing so shortly after as his facial features flickered with untamed emotions. Just like that, both Morgan and Addison were watching him go out the door. When Addison turned back to Morgan, the pregnant woman's expression was far from the one she had made while viewing her baby.

"I saw that," Morgan breathed, her eyes wide. Addison stepped toward her. That only made Morgan panic even more. "I saw the way you looked at him, the way he looked at _you_!" Both women were exasperated: Addison feeling the fool for being framed and Morgan feeling the fool for being blinded.

"Morgan, I…" Addison stammered. Morgan shot up, despite that she had mentioned feeling dizzy earlier.

"Are you sleeping with my husband?"

COOPER

He held onto her hand for as long as he could, Leah on her other side. The CAT scan terrified Jess, though Cooper knew she was too proud to admit it. Big machines and their medical uses gave Cooper the chills as well.

Leah sat beside him, broken. Her arms were limp around her daughter, who, after much protest, settled for sitting in her lap. Eric sat with Haley bouncing on his knee in the corner of the room. A word had yet to escape his mouth, which seemed permanently contorted into a scowl. Haley's eyes darted around the strange environment, oblivious to what was going on around her. Cooper slouched in the cold plastic chair, his hands folded in a muted prayer as they dangled between his knees.

The neurologist finally made his way into the room, dragging his feet slowly and creating blood-curdling screeches as leather rubbed up against tile. His normally pudgy face was elongated by a frown. Cooper could already see Jess' fate in the doctor's body language, and the simultaneous sighs he heard come from beside him told him he was not alone.

"Well?" Cooper asked, growing impatient. He needed to hear the news aloud to be one hundred percent certain that the worst was dawning on them. The attending sat in a chair across from them, slumping as well and sighing greatly. He reached out of a manila folder and pulled out the fresh scans and files from her appointment and pinned them to the overhead above him.

He slowly drew his hand up to the image of Jess' brain, which looked seemingly normal to Cooper. But he was a pediatrician, and pediatricians were no brain gurus. The neurologist's finger landed on a small gray speck in the middle of Jess' brain.

"W—what is that?" Leah whispered, her voice a shaky, high vibrato.

"I'm afraid that's your tumor," the neurologist sighed. Leah gasped, and the doctor stared between the two girls sympathetically. "We can start her on chemo therapy and radiation in a few months or we can opt for surgery…but I'll give you some time to think about it. I'm terribly sorry."

As the door shut behind the surgeon, Cooper couldn't help but notice how familiar he sounded to Violet…or at least, to how Violet used to sound.

But this moment was not about his best friend's odd behavior, it was about Jess. He looked to his side and frowned at the sight of Leah, her arms wrapped around her strong daughter as they rocked back and forth in a teary embrace. Eric's face was no longer visible, his emotions closeted by his big, strong, trembling hands. Haley, who reminded him of Betsy in some ways, was beginning to tear up as well, finally understanding the severity of the situation her sister was in.

Cooper could literally feel his heart breaking. He closed his eyes and thought so hard his head began pounding. Maybe, he thought, this all may be some sick, twisted dream. Jess was healthy, like she always had been. Her and her family really were not in an exam room watching as a brain doctor showed them her tumor. But it was confirmed, and the tumor was right in front of him in black and white. No pinch could snap him out of this horror story. Cooper buried his head in his hands when he heard Jess mutter the four dreaded words:

"I'm going to die."

And for all he knew, she very well could.

_And I just wanna show you she don't even know you  
She's never gonna love you like I want to  
And you just see right through me  
But if you only knew me  
We could be a beautiful miracle, unbelievable  
Instead of just invisible_

**Hey! So I'm getting better with my updates (it's a skill I aim to achieve greatness in someday). I've learned that it's much more effective for me to type up about five chapters and take a little leave from updating, that way I've got all these quickie updates for ya'll. Okay...so that's all for my master plan...hopefully you haven't turned off your computer just yet. I'm hoping you enjoyed this chapter. Awkward isn't exactly my forte (I actually have no forte, I think...I'm in a very indecisive mood today), so I'm praying that I didn't butcher the scenes with Violet and Lisa (I was stoked to get that part on here, by the way. Idina and Amy soo deserved their own scene.) and Noah-Addie-Morgan too much. And poor Jess has cancer :( I'm not a sappy guru either, so I do hope that portion of the chapter turned out okay. Next chapter (which is typed up and ready to go thanks to the master plan) features Sylvia at her worst, so brace yourselves, and I think I may put all of the characters together for the first time this whole fic. I hope you'll look forward to that. But I guess it's up to you to let me know (In other words: REVIEW PLEASE!) Thanks!**

**-ILoVeWicked**


	17. Make Up Your Mind Catch Me I'm Falling

**Disclaimer: Don't own it. **

**Make Up Your Mind/Catch Me I'm Falling**

_Make up your mind to live stronger now  
Make up your mind let the truth be revealed  
Admit what you've lost and live with the cost  
At times it does hurt to be healed_

OMNISCIENT

Naomi was unsure whether approaching the crumpled figure of her best friend would get her decapitated or not. Never before had she seen Addison so fragile, so confused. The Addison Montgomery she had come to know and love always knew what she wanted, and when she wanted it, hell, she did not quit until she got it. But as Naomi stood there, watching Addison draw figure eights with her finger on the Formica of the front desk, Naomi could see that Addison Montgomery was on the verge of backing down. She felt like she was partially the one to blame for Addison's change of heart. They barely spoke to one another any more. Her cell phone validating the evidence, they talked to each other more over the phone when Addison lived in Seattle than they had in LA, that was for sure. Perhaps the lack of communication between the two of them was what allowed Addison to be rocked around by Noah Barnes. Naomi sighed and began toward her friend. Better late than never.

"Hey," Naomi greeted softly as she joined Addison, whose eyes were focused on something far away. Addison imagined a place of bliss, a never ending green field dotted in a sweet smelling, colorful ensemble of flowers. It never rained, it never snowed, the sun hung high in the big blue sky. She was in her safe haven, the place she went when she needed to clear her mind. But even as she frolicked along the lovely patch of heaven she had created for herself, the far-away silhouette of Noah still appeared on the horizon and brought in a swirling purple cloud of doubt into the land. Addison shut her eyes and slammed her hands down on the table. Naomi jumped and yelped, shaking Addison into noticing her.

"Oh," Addison breathed, her voice breaking on the word. "Hey." Naomi's soft hand landed on Addison's tight forearm, and Addison could literally feel the tension simmering off of her. How had it been since she had been alone with, let alone talked to, Naomi? Addison could not put her finger on it, it had been so long.

"Are you okay?" Naomi asked. The unspoken truth was lying in between them, though neither of them wanted to be the first to say it aloud. Finally, Addison took a jagged breath and gave her friend a crooked smile.

"It's just been a _long _day, Nae, that's all," Addison said. Morgan had asked her, just flat out asked her, if she was sleeping with her husband. Of course, that was no where near true. How could that explain why she still felt so shameful? Naomi understood the whole thing in just those words, like they always did. They were Naomi and Addison, after all. Naomi rubbed her hand along her friend's arm in hopes of warming it up. She felt like she was gripping onto a corpse.

"You are _not _alone, believe me," Naomi told her, her eyes straying above Addison's shoulder to observe as Sam gathered his belongings to retire for the night. Sam did not want to be her friend because of Duncan. And Duncan, her boyfriend who knew of Naomi's love for the practice, was willing to sacrifice it all for his reputation. How did that not explain why she was angrier at Sam? Addison understood the whole thing, like they always did.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open to reveal Cooper and Dell, looking like night and day. Very pale Cooper, still sick to his stomach over Jess' brain tumor, and Dell, looking happy as a clam, paced into the lobby and were starting toward their designated posts. Violet had her nose buried in a file as she joined the group from her office. Her eyes met Pete's—who had snuck into the room unnoticed—for a moment before she frantically turned back to scanning over her patient's records. There seemed to be a quiet understanding between all of them. As the day wound down and the doctors prepared to leave, the entire practice seemed to be letting out one huge, single sigh. For a moment, the world was at peace. Silent and strained peace, the peace that comes after a hurricane wipes out an entire state, but peace nonetheless.

That was until they all heard the stomping.

With each swift, hard clack of expensive high heels that could be heard from behind them, emerging from the elevator, the peace began shattering. Each of the Oceanside doctors counted each other, and they were all mortified to realize that they were all present in that room. Before any of them could hypothesize who had intruded the practice, the familiar flame of red hair came brushing past Sam and sending him to the ground, inhaler to his lips. Sylvia's eyes were ablaze with anger. The reason behind it was unbeknownst them. Pete peered over his shoulder at Violet, whose papers had fallen to a puddle on the floor.

"This is _preposterous_!" Sylvia boomed, her usually loud voice echoing off the walls. Pete winced, getting a good look at what he presumed—judging by the way the woman looked exactly like Violet—was the older Turner sister. Addison stood, gaping at the woman who had come in screaming, and wondered why no one was initiating that they call security or the police. She saw the striking resemblance between the huffing redhead and Violet, whose glasses were nearly slipping off of her nose, and sighed.

Addison felt Naomi nudge her encouragingly, and Addison, in the midst of it all, remembered that she was in fact head of the practice. She was head of a practice that she had been neglecting, and now all eyes were on her, expecting her to take charge. With a shake of her very confused head, Addison stepped toward the babbling sister of Violet.

"Doctor Addison Forbes Montgomery. What seems to be the problem, Ma'am?" Addison asked as politely as possible. Violet was already shielding her eyes. Violet knew that Sylvia hated when all of her little sister's friends used their professionalism with her, yet she could not find any way to communicate that with Addison in such limited time. Sylvia rolled her eyes and chuckled evilly.

"Incompetence, idiocy, arrogance?" Sylvia mused, throwing her hands up and prowling around the room. Cooper jumped out of her line, pulling Dell with him, when Sylvia stalked by. She was a force no one wanted to reckon with.

"Excuse me?" Addison nearly shouted, taken aback. She had put up with enough crap from the devils in her own head yelling at her today, and the last thing she needed was to hear a stranger rant to her about something she had no knowledge of. Sylvia snapped her head around to face Addison, hands planted firmly on her hips. She held up a shiny DVD with her two fingers and gritted her teeth.

"I'm talking about your receptionist's video, _Doctor Montgomery_, the video that has each and every one of you being gossiped about on the streets, at the dinner table, everywhere!" Sylvia shot back, pointing a long finger at Dell with one hand and waving the DVD in Addison and Naomi's faces with the other.

"W—what?" Dell stuttered, unsure of this woman's mental stability. It was no wonder why Violet refused to talk about her family. He could have sworn Sylvia hissed at him and bared fangs for a moment before glowering at the rest of the crew.

"Shall we watch?" the enraged woman suggested, stomping up to the screen where Naomi was talking about the Oceanside family and shutting down the power to insert the DVD.

"Syl, calm down," Violet croaked, stepping forward. Addison could see the looks of pure humiliation dashing across Violet's already pale complexion and automatically felt a pang of sympathy for her; her sister made Archer seem heaven sent. Sylvia glared at Violet with wide, skeptic eyes.

"Oh, just watch me, Violet," she hissed. For the first time in her life, Violet was actually _afraid _of her older sister.

Within seconds of the video stalling with static and Sylvia's yelling at the screen to work, Dell's red faced appeared, and the video began unfolding itself. Naomi buried her head in her hands as Dell went onto ridicule the practice as a whole:

_"…Okay, so this place is _far _from normal. If you're looking for some freaky voodoo medicine or to get an abortion at a fertility clinic, come and join us here at Oceanside. Believe me, I may just be the receptionist that no one respects for his midwifery skills, but I hear it all. I'm sure we'd be happy to have at least some patients. Most haven't even bothered to come back because of all the freaky shit that goes on here…"_

Violet and Pete viewed Dell's ranting in horror for the first time, their mouths both forming two giant 'O's. Addison felt herself drawn to watch the horrible video again. To her, nothing could be worse than the inner conflicts going on with her. Clearly, Dell had felt the same way during the making of this video. Cooper and Sam were both shaking their heads in disapproval—and for Cooper's sake, embarrassment. Though, as he looked around at the rest of the group, 'embarrassed' did not seem to cover it. Sylvia simply grinned wickedly. Everyone was too focused on Dell's viral video to notice the elevator doors slide open and let in Sheldon and Charlotte.

_"…And don't even get me started about the freaking psychos that work this place. Seriously, kudos to you if you've dealt with the most renown doctors in the country. If only you could see what was going on inside their heads, you'd think otherwise…"_

Sheldon poked his head around nervously, unsure of why Dell was on the big screen in Oceanside's lobby. "Violet?" he asked finally. It was the first word any of them had spoken since the video began. Sylvia's hand nearly smacked Sheldon square in the face.

"Shut up," she scolded. Sheldon did not know who this woman was, but he was willing to give her his card.

_"…Pete Wilder, our 'Alternative Medicine Guru'. I'll be honest with you, I have no idea how that crap works, but the man's just about as crazy as his herbal bathing salts. C'mon, what middle-aged doctor rides a freaking motorcycle to work? And to him, being with women is like playing 'Musical Beds' or something, I swear! The guy's slept with, like, every girl on the planet, not to mention knocked up one of them. And now he's going out with a patient's _mom_. Isn't that, I dunno, against the law or something? Whatever, Joe Cool…"_

Pete was not afraid to send Dell a dagger-eyed glare. The younger boy backed further into the corner of the lobby. Pete had never really considered the fact that he used to sleep around a lot, and even so, he had always presumed Dell could have cared less. But in case the receptionist had not 'heard it all', Pete had changed a lot since he 'knocked up' one of his past lovers. He thought about his motorcycle parked outside and winced.

_"…Violet Turner, our therapist. More like, Violet Turner should _get _a therapist. The woman is more neurotic than half of her patients are. She stalked an ex-boyfriend for, like, six months, eats like a Great Dane, and she has a grand total of four friends or something. Her newest tragedy: she's pregnant and has no idea who the father is. Better yet, she doesn't even freaking care! She's willing to let these two men grovel at her feet, one of them doing all of that for nothing, because she's too selfish to take a paternity test. My advice to the both of them is getting out while you still can…"_

Though she could feel the tears welling in her eyes, she chose not to point fingers at Dell. Sylvia was already doing that for her. What troubled Violet the most about Dell's little hate moment towards her was that majority of what he said was true. Was she really as pathetic as Dell made her sound?

_"…Our newest addition to Oceanside is Addison Montgomery, top neo-natal surgeon in the United States, maybe even the world. So what bugs me about that is she threw all of that fame and fortune out the window to come and work _here_. And she's got the worst love and emotional track record. I mean, we all can tell she has some serious baggage from Seattle that she refuses to tell anyone but her beloved best friend Naomi about, but since her arrival she has dated a lot of guys, all of them either too clingy, too cocky, or too _married_. That's right, she's currently doing God-knows-what with a married cardiologist whose wife just so happens to be her pregnant patient! Pretty desperate stuff, right? I mean, the woman could have any guy she wants, yet she settles for all of the losers. Says a lot about her character, if you ask me…"_

Though Addison had already seen it coming, Dell's words at that moment were a harder punch in the gut than they had ever been before. Dell may have heard one side of the story, but he had no idea how difficult it was to resist Noah's temptings, to continue seeing Morgan as a patient, and to deal with the blame of it all. Reality was a hard slap in the face. Now, she could only pray that Noah did not have a computer.

_"…Cooper Freedman, our pediatrician. He's a loveable goofball, great with kids, but when it comes to adults and relationships, the guy's a mess. Maybe some of you ladies have seen him on trashy dating websites, he's their most avid user. And SexyBoobs, if you're out there, I'm sure he would say hi if he wasn't so busy effing around with Charlotte King, St. Ambrose Hospital's Chief of Staff. The two fool around like bunnies _everywhere_! You don't need pornography when Charlotte and Cooper are screwing each other in his office while little kids sit in the waiting room. You don't know how many times I've seen her sneak past my desk with whipped cream. But seriously, if he wanted to actually start getting more intimate with someone, he should at least do it with someone who's less of an ice queen. Look, I'm breathing, Charlotte, is that correct? Seriously, get a room would be an understatement. Get an island…"_

Before Cooper could event think about himself, all he could see out of the corner of his eye was a flash of blonde hair as Charlotte rode the elevator off the floor, not caring to stick around for more of the Ultimate Critic. Already he could sense that she was hurt and self-conscious, and already he regretted not telling her about the video sooner. Maybe the hurt would have been able to heal a little better if she had known. Mabe her anger would have helped in doing something about the video before Sylvia could have gotten her grubby hands on it. But Cooper knew that it was too late; he could not turn back time. Charlotte would have ways of healing ahead of her.

_"…And last, maybe least, goes to my self-proclaimed parents. Mom, Naomi Bennett, is our fertility specialist, and Daddy, Sam Bennett is our self-healer. So both of them think that work is more important than family, obviously, because when a person who is barely needed decides to take a little time off from work to grieve that fact that his daughter could be anywhere with her self-centered mother, it's suddenly a crime. Might as well have just sent me to my room. Listen, guys, you're not my parents, you never have been, you'll always be the people who took me in as a charity case and have treated me like crap since. And in case the world hasn't given you enough clues, there's no way you can last as BFFs when you're both still madly in love with each other! Reason for your expensive divorce? Hmm…I can't seem to find one. Why don't you go parent your own daughter for a change and leave me alone…"_

Sam and Naomi exchanged an all knowing glance toward each other. They may have been arguing before, but it was times like these, under intense circumstances, that they knew they had to come together to fight against. The video drew to a close with Dell's cruel laughter filling the room. Sylvia turned to all of them: glowering Pete, teary Violet, gaping Sheldon, listless Addison, concerned Cooper, strong-willed Naomi, asthmatic Sam, and lastly, a very guilty Dell.

He did not understand. He had no memory of creating this video or putting it up on Youtube. Dell suddenly understood why Mrs. Grady had been so refusing to have him tend to her. She was scared of him. His patient, along with many others, did not want her personal information broadcasted to the world by her drugged up midwife, a monster, like he had so cruelly done to all of his co-workers. Now cleaner and more sober than ever, Dell was most humiliated out of all of them. He was certain that he would never be looked at the same way by the people who trusted him so well, like Mrs. Grady had. Dell could see his future changing before his very eyes. If he were to be let go from Oceanside, which was highly probable, he was certain he would never be offered another job. No one wants to hire a junkie. Though the chances of ever seeing Betsy again were bleaker now, he made a vow that he would never abuse the demons that had brought him through some of his worst times, no matter how low life became. It was not worth losing faith in yourself and having your friends lose faith in you too. He hated himself more than he ever had. In doing foolish things to himself, he had ruined his life and the lives of others.

Sylvia seemed to agree with him. The heat was rising above her head in puffs of steam. Wisps of red hair fell above her eyes as she ran her hands through her hair, looking for words suitable enough for this group of hooligans.

"I cannot even _begin _to express my disappointment in every single one of you. Do you have any idea how horrible it is for a woman to be checking her emails and to have to come across something so vile? You all should be ashamed of yourselves! Not only is Mr. Parker here at fault for creating the video, and I know you are all blaming him inside those thick heads of yours, but he would not have had anything to make a video of if you all did not have these disgraceful stories to screen? And you call yourselves doctors!

This video was a very stupid thing to do, Dell, and I realize that you were obviously under the influence, but now the entire practice is suffering. The negligence of the immediate removal of this video was very irresponsible, as it has now been leaking to the public for a week!"

Dell stepped forward, anger churning the inferno convection flowing from the soles of his sneakers to the tallest hair on his head. "In my defense, I had no idea that video existed! Otherwise, I would have removed it!" Naomi's eyebrow shot upward in surprise.

"You didn't?" Naomi asked. Dell shook his head wildly.

"Naomi, I was so angry about Betsy, and you and Sam just set me off. I was so drunk and high that I woke up without any memory of the night before," Dell insisted, the pleading tone in his voice making his story very believable. It had to be the explanation she was looking for, the loophole that could cut Dell off the chain, but Sylvia would have none of it.

"You all don't get it, do you? You could all lose your jobs for what Mr. Parker has done! Your major secrets are the high points of people's conversations at parties! This practice could face horrible lawsuit!" Sylvia screamed, pacing back and forth. Violet was almost certain that her sister would pace herself right through the floor and into Pacific Wellcare. Addison rubbed her temples; the thought of court had barely crossed her mind.

"This is…a disaster! All of you are morons for letting this happen! Look at yourselves, you are all wrecks! I could go on forever! You…"

"Sylvia!" Violet exclaimed, breathless. All heads turned to face her, Sylvia's face being closest. "Dell screwed up, he gets that. We all screwed up, and we're accepting that fact. We don't need to hear any more from you." Sylvia's eye twitched, a sign that she did not particularly enjoy the public lashing from her younger sibling.

"Well," Sylvia said as she approached Violet, her voice low and threatening, "aren't we one to talk? Who's the father of this baby, Violet? Pete or Sheldon? Any ideas?" Violet bit her lip and shook her head meekly. Pete watched the scene fold out in horror. Sheldon was frozen in shock, blinking the only indication that he was still alive.

"You should be hiding under a rock at this point, Honey, because of all those tales, yours is probably the most demeaning. It's especially embarrassing for me to walk around knowing that my sister is a selfish little tramp," she growled, jabbing her fingernail accusingly into Violet's sternum. Violet's eyes were wide and pain-stricken.

"Hey!" Pete shouted. "Leave her alone!"

The words bounced off of Sylvia's force field without even reaching her ears. She was too enraged with her sister. Her sister who had brought her nothing but trouble and embarrassment since Sylvia was sixteen years old. Her sister who she had spent her years raising so that she would step out into the world being _perfect_. Violet failing meant that Sylvia had failed, and Sylvia did not handle malfunction well. Violet would not be the tail end of her disappointment once again. She would not allow it.

"At first, I was willing to accept your alternative life-style, but I'm not the _only _one judging you for this, apparently. You're taking that amnio, and your taking it as soon as possible," Sylvia commanded.

Violet was still paralyzed, back against the wall in shock. She had been so preoccupied with the terrifying look in her sister's eyes that she failed to notice that she had been cornered. Guilt showered over Violet like a hail storm and whacked welts of dread, anxiety, and self-loathing all over her body. She nearly doubled over from the pain of just staring at Sylvia, those eyes of hate, knowing that all of her friends and colleagues were watching her, were sympathizing for her. Tears pushed against the levis of her heart, threatening to expose the flesh of her emotions down to the core. The concoction of meatballs and jellybeans for lunch was churning in her throat. She shook her head and pushed her sister away. Violet decided that she would not break down…at least, not in front of everyone.

"Excuse me," she whispered, her voice giving away all hope at remaining calm. Dell saw the hurt in the therapist's eyes and reached forward to apologize, but he was greeted with the empty feeling of rejection that he had come to know so well when Violet curved out of his reach. Tears were free falling from her eyes now as Violet ran off to her office, sending Pete's heart through the shredder.

"Violet!" Pete called down the hall, pushing past gawking Sheldon and beginning to follow her. Sylvia cut him off, her furry black coat getting caught in his mouth. Pete coughed out the hair and simply glared at Sylvia. She did not scare him. Nothing scared him more than seeing Violet in so much pain.

"She's a big girl. She can handle this on her own," Sylvia muttered, low enough so that none of the others could hear a word she said. Pete glowered at her. Of all the intense staring battles he had over the years, Sylvia was by far his toughest competitor. He thought of Violet, destroyed by the life her sister had built for her. A life of fear and distrust and hurt. What he could not wrap his head around was _why _Sylvia had constructed that life for her and her sister.

"Maybe you should learn to butt out of her life. She was handling things perfectly fine on her own before you came along," Pete grumbled in reply. Sylvia was at loss for words, shocked that someone would even dare to use that tone and those harsh words with her. Pete did not look back as he followed Violet in the direction she had run off to.

The rest of the group stood mutely, their thoughts and feelings all exchanged through silence. They all had been wounded in their own individual ways, but nonetheless, they had all been wounded. What they had all failed to realize was that they had been so busy trying to ward off their problems on their own when the ones they cared about with those same problems were right behind them. All they had to do was take the time to turn around. Now, they all feared through wide-eyed stares, it was too late.

"Well, what are you all just standing around for?" Sylvia exclaimed suddenly, battering each and every one of the doctors around her out of their thoughts. "Shouldn't you be going home and hanging your heads right about now?"

Naomi finally had enough of Violet's overbearing older sister. Needless to say, she was just as intimidated by the older woman as everyone else was (with the exception of Pete), but Naomi could no longer stand to listen to that shrill voice telling her how to run the practice that would always, in some ways, belong to her. With a gentle, carefully placed hand on Sylvia's shoulder, Naomi bravely escorted the elder woman to the elevator.

"I think it would be best if you left," she told Sylvia kindly, but with enough affirmation to send Sylvia off with a greatly dramatic huff.

Sheldon soon escaped the point of no return shortly after in desperate need of fresh air. Once Naomi was certain Sylvia and Sheldon were out of sight, she turned back to her friends: four washed-out, traumatized figures. Nothing but the memory of what they all used to be hung in the air. Naomi sighed as Dell tried his luck with her.

"Naomi, I…" he began. Naomi held up her hand.

"Just…go home, Dell. We'll work this all out," Naomi promised him, pausing to stare back at Sam. The decision of keeping Dell around was still the barrier that kept him from holding the gaze as Sam quickly dropped his eyes to the floor.

"It's going to be fine," Addison repeated, more to herself than anyone.

_PRIVATE PRACTICE_

"Violet?" Pete called out, breathlessly searching every cranny of the practice. She could not have possibly gone far; she could barely walk a flight of stairs without getting winded. Besides, she was too huge to hide in the small, confided places she would normally be able to tuck herself away in. He muttered curses under his breath before calling out her name, louder in his frustration.

"Violet!"

"What!" something screamed from inside Violet's office, behind him. Pete whirled around and swung the door to her office open. Violet was nowhere in sight, her office seemingly untouched. Pete was about to turn around and check across the hall when he heard muffled sobbing coming from Violet's closet, an indication to her hiding place.

To say she looked sad would be an immense understatement. Violet looked as though she had just stepped out of a horror film. Balled up in the deepest corner of the closet, past the coats and hats, Violet was hysterical. Her body racked with uncontrollably loud cries coming from her twisted mouth. Mascara ran down her porcelain cheeks from her distraught blue eyes. Brunette curls hung limply around her face, matting onto the tear streaks. Her arms were wrapped protectively around her waist, assuring his possible child unknown promises. She was a sorry sight.

Gravity took hold of Pete's knees and plopped him beside her. Forces of levitation brought his arms around her. The care he felt toward her held her close to him, made his grip stronger when she tried to squirm away.

"Go away," she muttered against his chest, although they could both feel her relaxing in his embrace. Pete buried his head in the familiar brown bush of hair and inhaled the sweetest scent of raspberries and popery. He was more comfortable with her in his arms, as they sat together in a closet, than he had ever felt before. Pete shook his head.

"I can't stand to see you hurt like this, Violet," he told her. Violet's fist was hard against his chest as she started fidgeting again.

"Liar." The word was a drip of acid off of her tongue. She knew Pete was not the wrong one at the moment, but he was the only person who would let her fight him. Pete's shirt was soft in her hands, his eyes were soft as he studied her, his skin was soft against her face as he reached up and wiped her tears from her eyes.

"I'm serious," he insisted. "What Sylvia and Dell did was wrong…"

"But they were _right_, Pete, that's the thing!" Violet shouted in frustration. Pools of salt formed at the corners of her dehydrated lips. "What I'm doing to you and Sheldon is so wrong and so selfish, and I could just put one of you out of your misery with one little test…"

Pete stroked her delicate cheekbone with his thumb. "If it puts you out of _your _misery, Vi, then I'm all for it."

"But I want…"

"I know, I know, you don't want to see either of our heads on your kid. Vi, You walk around this place like a zombie, like the answer is practically eating away at you. If the amnio is all it takes to make you smile, then let's go for it," Pete told her encouragingly, though his face was still smoldering. Somehow, he could not remove the image from his brain of Violet being pinned against the wall by her own flesh and blood. Violet shook her head and sighed. Blue met brown in a hasty misunderstanding.

Violet felt her palms begin to sweat and tears begin to pour again. "What I was trying to say was…I want it to be you," she whispered.

Just like that, his lips were on hers, the raw emotions nearly setting them both on fire. Pete's tongue found access to her mouth, and Violet's hands found their way to grip onto the sides of his face. She was still in tears, and he was still fuming, but the two negatives came together to form one gigantic explosion of a positive reaction. Euphoria whirl pooled around them and pulled them closer together. For a moment, the world felt at ease, and they each remembered what it felt like to act as one.

They would have continued if not for the crash of a purse declining to the floor.

"Pete?!" Lisa screeched, standing before the closet and gaping at the sight before her.

_Catch me I'm falling  
Catch me I'm falling  
Flying head first into fate  
Catch me I'm falling  
Please hear me calling  
Catch me before it's too late  
Catch me before it's too late  
Catch me before it's too late  
Catch me I'm falling  
Catch me I'm falling  
Catch me I'm falling_

**Pretty intense stuff, huh? Sorry my 'speedy' updates are getting less and less...well, speedy. My puggy has been sick lately and it's all very stressful to deal with. The updates, unfortunately, might get slower b/c I'm setting off for theater camp all this week and then heading on vacation right after for the next week. I'll try to squeeze one or two more in, dog/sanity permitted. As for this update, hopefully you bared through that eleven page chapter (it was my favorite part to write...I got a little carried away...please don't throw things at me!). I have to say, and I don't know if anyone agrees, but as I was writing this I couldn't help but really, really hate Sylvia. Like, really. I was literally angry with myself for creating such a meanie head. But least it resulted in something positive for all you Violet/Pete fans (like MEEE)!...kinda...Stupid Lisa had to go and ruin the fun, but the little genre thingy underneath the summary _does _say drama, so I gotta stick to what I tell you guys ;) I'm hoping that this chapter left you all on the edge of your seats, b/c it was truly my favorite to write so far and I had a lot of fun creating the 'drama'. Please, please, please review! If you're going to start reviewing or want to just review one chapter, this would really be the one to do so! Thanks again!**

**-ILoVeWicked**


	18. All I Ask of You

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**All I Ask of You**

_No more talk of darkness  
Forget these wide-eyed fears  
I'm here, nothing can harm you  
My words will warm and calm you  
Let me be your freedom  
Let daylight dry your tears  
I'm here with you, beside you  
To guard you and to guide you_

ADDISON

She knew she would be here. She knew he was scrubbing out of a successful heart transplant. She knew his wife was onto their little scheme. She knew she should have turned on her Jimmy Choos and walked right out of the hospital that she had no purpose for serving that day.

Yet, she stayed.

When Noah appeared at the end of the hall, Addison felt the blood beginning to pump back to her brain. Finally regaining common sense, Addison wished to turn away, but Noah had already caught sight of her and was making his way in her direction. She longed to take a bar of soap and wash that smirk off of his face.

"Addison!" Noah proclaimed, inevitably elated to see her. Addison watched him with wide eyes, like a deer being tracked down by a bounty hunter; she had been captured and locked upon. Trying to escape the magnetic forces that were scraping her towards him would be a waste of much-needed energy.

"Noah," she breathed. There was something different about him that morning. He still possessed that same physique and charm about him that he always seemed to carry around when she was nearby, but something about the way he walked—a little taller than usual—told her to head for the hills.

Her feet stayed right where they were, content in their position just a few feet away from the cardiologist heartthrob.

"You and I need to talk," he told her, lowering his head to be eye-level with her. Addison gulped, the possible conversation topics whizzing through her head and nearly sending her to her knees, and nodded. Noah glanced around at the noisy nurses, patients, doctors, and paramedics around him, looking agitated.

"_In private_," Noah added, taking her lightly by the arm and guiding her down the corridor. His touch was like fire against Addison's skin. She followed him weightlessly, her feet barely touching the ground. Noah to her was comparable to the scent of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. It triggered her attention, pulled her in, and satisfied her enough until she could wrap her lips around the sugary morsel itself.

At the end of the hall, there was a door. It was simple, oblong, white, just like any normal door, but Addison could not help but wonder what skeletons would come pouring from that door once Noah turned the handle and led them inside. For a moment, she felt like she was in high school again. Sneaking around with boys to unbeknownst locations, fooling with each other and exchanging sweet nothings through strained whispers and giggles. Adventures of fleeing from parents out the bedroom window in the middle of the night made her miss those days of innocence. Now, she imagined herself jumping out the window just to escape the brewing fire.

Noah plopped down on a large leather couch. Addison was about to do the same, as she had been standing in her heels waiting for over an hour, when she realized just how small the couch looked from her perspective. She opted for lounging in an identical armchair opposite Noah's couch. He looked offended from her gesture but shrugged it off, smiling that irresistible smile that made her hate herself so much.

Smiling, Addison finally realized, the thought dawning upon her like the first sunrise of the summertime, was the extent of it all. Minus that one kiss that resulted in Noah getting the door slammed in his face, a warm smile or two was all that had been exchanged between her and her pregnant patient's husband. And yet, that still did not satisfy the nauseating feeling the guilt of it all was putting on her. Addison threw her hands up in the air and groaned, catching Noah's attention. He looked as if he had been doing some thinking himself.

"We're doing _nothing_ wrong!" Addison pronounced, her eyes refusing to stare into Noah's soft features. Now that it was out in the open, she felt less and less sick. Addison thought of the pain Morgan would be in if she only knew that they were in this very room having this very conversation and the nauseating feeling returned. Then again, there was nothing in the Ten Commandments that went against smiling. " Nothing _biblical, _anyway," she added. He nodded and shrugged in agreement.

"Well, there's coveting," Noah mentioned after a moment of reflection from both of them. Addison rolled her eyes, remembering the ruthless years of Catholic school and serving as an alter girl. When she was eleven, she would be able to recite the Ten Commandments verbatim due to the shoving of the rules down her throat by her parents and teachers. It was not that she did not enjoy Catechism, she just preferred it in moderate doses.

"Okay, coveting, but that's not even the bad sin anyway," Addison said. For some odd reason, she needed to believe that what she and Noah were doing was not wrong. Then maybe, out of some chance, it would be made _right_.

"There really are no good sins, Addison," Noah shot back with a chuckle. Addison leaned back in frustration as Noah laughed harder. "Coveting is still considered a 'bad sin'. But, I'm sure back in the day when they said coveting it mostly meant sheep…"

"Are you even religious?" Addison cut him off. Noah looked down at his lap and shook his head. He obviously had a lot of confession to catch up on. Addison bit her lip and thought of her last mass. Christmas of last year. Maybe _she _had some catching up to do with the Big Man herself.

"No, but you're the one who brought up the Bible!" Noah objected, his banter with her playful. Addison smacked him lightly on the arm.

"I did not!" she cried. She only realized how flirtatious she had just acted with Noah when his eyes glazed over with lust. He held up his hands in surrender to the redhead.

"Look, it doesn't matter who brought it up anyway, because let's face it: we're both going to hell," Noah told her. Addison was taken aback. Certainly, she had not done enough to deserve that placement in the afterlife, had she? But one look into Noah's eyes was all it took to realize that he was joking with her once again. Addison broke out into a huge grin and curled over laughing. Noah joined in.

Addison paused abruptly. She was not the one he should be sharing jokes with. It should have been Morgan, his wife. Addison felt her fists clench. She could not handle this 'I hate me, I hate me not' game for another minute. The nearest church or chapel was at least a few miles away, and this man was about as good as it got when it came to priests. She gazed up at Noah, took a deep breath, and told him the truth.

"I feel guilty. I just feel…awful," she admitted. She hated it when he gave her such a look of indignant understanding and nodded. Sighing, Noah replied to her confession.

"Which is why I should tell her," he responded, his voice low. Addison's eyes examined his face for any hint of another joke. There was no humor to be found in that stare. Gulping, Addison shook her head. Morgan's feelings had to be taken into consideration as well.

"No, Noah, that would ruin Morgan. And the baby…"

"I know, I know! And that's why she deserves the truth!" Noah exclaimed his master plan to her. Addison peered at him through her eye lashes and was mortified to realize that her hands had somehow found their way into his palms. He gave each hand a loving squeeze before continuing.

"We could be together."

And before she knew it, his lips were making a b-line toward her face. Addison closed her eyes and braced herself for the storm. Her lips puckered and her heart fluttered, this time both prepared for what was about to become. Almost automatically, Sylvia's words from the day before, which had been playing like a broken record in her mind, appeared once again.

_"You all should be ashamed of yourselves! Not only is Mr. Parker here at fault for creating the video, and I know you are all blaming him inside those thick heads of yours, but he would not have had anything to make a video of if you all did not have these disgraceful stories to screen? And you call yourselves doctors!..." _

Like most of her body parts that day, Addison's hand had a mind of it's own as it struck Noah across the face. Noah was sent whirling back on his couch, hand on his now-red cheek. He looked back at Addison with eyes of disbelief.

"What the…?" he began. Addison stood, unable to be eye-level with him once again. She felt stupid for slapping Noah just when he was going in for what may have been the best kiss of her life, but she would have felt even more stupid if she had let the kiss happen.

"I—I can't do this, Noah! I just can't be responsible for ruining your life, and I'm sorry that I've already caused so much damage. At least…I can't do this now. Not while you're in such a good place in your life…"

"But I'm not in a good place!" Noah objected as he rocketed upward. Addison's eyes fell to her shoes on the floor. "Can't you see I'm miserable? We could be together! I covet you!"

"And I covet you," Addison whimpered. "But so does Morgan."

"If Morgan just knew the truth…"

Addison looked up at him, his beautiful, torn face, and suggested, "I need you to promise me that you'll at least _try _to love Morgan again." Noah shook his head in incredulity.

"Addison…"

"Just _promise _me, Noah. It'll at least make me feel a little more comfortable about going to hell." Addison kicked at a dust bunny on the tiled floor and sniffled. Addison took a jagged breath to keep her tears at bay. Weakness should have been a sin.

Finally, it came out. Slowly but surely, Addison felt Noah's lips curling around the words:

"I promise."

VIOLET

The vomiting, the spinning head, the blurry thoughts…Violet could very much consider these symptoms to the worst kiss hangover ever. If she could have ingested alcohol, she was fairly certain the feelings would have been worse.

Pete had kissed her. Not just a peck on the cheek to say hello, but _kissed _her, and Violet knew well enough to know when a kiss is a legitimate kiss. In that ten second kiss, Violet had seen more excitement and happiness than she had seen her whole life. It was a shame poor Lisa had to walk in on it. She would never forget the look of betrayal on Lisa's face, like de ja vu was haunting Lisa. How Pete was going to handle that mess was a mystery to Violet. Normally, she would have cared deeply about Lisa entering her office and seeing the kiss between her boyfriend and his pregnant ex-girlfriend. Normally, she would have felt horrible for kissing him in the first place. But that kiss had happened; it was real, and there was nothing any of them could do to change that.

Violet nearly chucked her box of cereal across the room when she remembered where and why Pete had kissed her. Sylvia had done the honors of scheduling the amnio for her. In just a few short days, the father of her child would be revealed, and Violet was unsure if she wanted that. What if it was Sheldon? Sheldon being the father guaranteed no more kiss hangovers. Then again, it could have been Pete, and all of her prayers would have been answered. Either way, it would get the world off of her back for being, in Sylvia's words, a 'selfish little tramp'.

In that moment of self-loathing, Sheldon had picked the most opportune time to show up in her office, covered in scratches and heaving for air. The shorter man sent Violet a smile before bending over and coughing.

"Violet! I thought I'd find you here!" Sheldon declared through choppy breaths. Violet, still glum over her current predicament smiled faintly at the possible father of her child.

"Considering I work here, you thought correctly," Violet told him sarcastically. Sheldon laughed along with her before his laugh turned into another wheezing cough. Violet examined his appearance a little more closely: tattered clothes, mussed hair, covered in tiny red dots of blood. It looked like he had gotten into a fight with a stapler.

"May I ask what the heck happened to you?" Violet wondered, returning to her seat behind her desk. Sheldon made his way to stand beside her, gazing at his bloody forearms that trailed all the way up to his sleeve.

"There was this patient of mine, Anita. And she was so shy and so lonely, she needed help getting out there and talking to a co-worker she had feelings for…"

"And then she realized how easy it was to talk to you," Violet assumed, making the connections. As far as therapists went, Sheldon was a man someone could easily open up to. Sheldon grinned and nodded.

"Then she started having these…naughty dreams about me. She said it may seem crazy, but we had been so close for so long that she wanted me _so _darn _bad_," Sheldon continued, his voice dropping into a sultry tone that caused Violet to nearly choke on her water. It was then that she noticed Sheldon staring at her strangely. His hand kept patting his left pocket, as if he was keeping a beat.

"What happened next?" she asked softly.

"Then, she came in with a bunch of roses and asked me to run away with her, get married in a chapel in Vegas where we could live happily ever after. Obviously, I said no, and obviously, she turned her kind gesture into a weapon against me," Sheldon remarked, wincing in pain as Violet dabbed her napkin with water and stuck it against his scraped forehead.

"Poor thing," Violet sighed. Sheldon was too good of a guy to deserve being beaten by flowers.

"And you know why I told Anita no to her proposal, Violet?"

Violet's eyebrow went skyward. "Why? Because she was an unstable patient?"

Sheldon's head shook, and through the napkin, Violet could feel the heat of his head. "Because I realized I was really in love with someone else. Someone so wonderful, beautiful, someone who understands me. I had some proposing to do of my own," Sheldon said, a beacon of positivity bubbling with anxiousness.

The whole scene seemed to unfold too fast. Before she knew it, her hand was in Sheldon's clammy hands. He had dropped to one knee on the floor and had pulled out a small, red, velvet box containing an expensive looking diamond ring. Violet's jaw dangled below her stomach. Sheldon stared up at her expectantly, grinning from ear to ear.

"Now, I know there's a chance that this baby might not be mine, but I'm willing to take that risk. I'm willing to take _you_. Violet Turner, will you marry me?"

_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime  
Say the word and I will follow you  
Share each day with me  
Each night, each morning  
Say you love me  
__You know I do  
__Love me, that's all I ask of you_

**Gasp! I mean, that all happened on the show...but gasp! Not so much drama as last time...but enough so that it's gasp worthy. Besides, my life has had enough drama in it lately...let's just say it would make the season finale look pitiful. Turns out my doggie's 'sickness' was really a neurological condition which resulted in having to return him to the breeder after only a month of having him :( Naturally, as you fellow dog lovers may know, it's been tough, like losing a child, hence why it's taken longer than it should have to update. So some reviews would really cheer me up, even though this chapter was kind of a filler. Thanks so much, you guys!**

**-ILoVeWicked**

**PS- I will most likely be taking a short haitus from writing this due to the fact that I really wanted to write a take off on the season finale (since this hardly counts) and I finally came up with an idea while reading my really boring summer reading, so be on the lookout for that. Thanks again!**


	19. If I Can't Love Her

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**If I Can't Love Her**

_No beauty could move me  
No goodness improve me  
No power on earth, if I can't love her  
No passion could reach me  
No lesson could teach me  
How I could have loved her and make her love me too  
If I can't love her then who?_

PETE

Violet had kissed him. _Kissed _him, after all he had done for her. She wanted her child to be his, and she had openly admitted that to him. Those words were as plain and clear as the nose on his face. His feelings were at the exact same place and time as hers, hence the _kiss_. If Lisa had not intruded Violet's office and spotted them, abruptly leaving after without giving Pete or Violet the time of day, he was certain he would have done the breaking up immediately. What he felt in that kiss with Violet was neither pity nor lust. There was something much more. As a doctor specializing in auras, he could feel it.

So how did any of that explain why he stood five feet away from Violet's office, mouth gaping open as he watched Sheldon fall to his knee and pull out a beautiful diamond ring? Pete did not need to waste his time trying to read Sheldon's lips to know what was coming next. The hopeless romantic's sweaty anxiety could be felt and seen all the way to where Pete was standing, or fuming, rather. Judging by the look on Sheldon's moist face, Violet's answer was no sealed deal. It never was with Violet Turner.

What he dreaded most was looking up at her. Emotionally, Violet was spent, like most of the woman working at this practice. In just a few short days, the future of all four involved in the sinister plot line would be revealed, all thanks to her pompous dictator of a sister. Pete knew she was in no mood to be proposed to. That was the only reason he kept a distance from her after such an amazing kiss. Most girls would consider it avoidance, but with Violet, he was doing her the favor. Too bad he forgot to mention that to Sheldon.

For a second, he could have sworn she was smiling. Was she? He rubbed his eyes diligently, just to be sure that he was not hallucinating, but Violet was smiling. It was small and forced, nonetheless, but that look on her face still qualified as a smile.

Pete was in shock, the place in his chest where his heart used to be a roaring black hole, vacuuming away his every being of existence. She was smiling. And smiles meant happiness. Marriage was supposed to be defined as happiness.

Pete's hand flew to his pounding head as the sad realization dawned upon him: Violet was going to say yes. That kiss was nothing but a small portion of her memory compared to a proposal. She would live happily ever after with Sheldon, the baby, and their white picket fenced house, and she would answer to the name Doctor Wallace. He shuddered and finally inhaled some air; he needed to get away before his worst nightmare became Sheldon's dream come true.

Pete chose to not even regard Dell of his whereabouts, as he was still unsure of his trust in the young man after the video incident. It was no wonder patients and passersby on the streets had been staring at him like he was scum for weeks. Pete grumbled something to Naomi as he grabbed his coat and stormed out of the practice.

He was sure that he had hit rock bottom. No, there was rock bottom, fifty feet of garbage, and then him, he decided. The one thing he could not erase from his mind as he got onto his bike and started revving the engine was that Violet had said, her words as clear as day, that she wanted it to be him. The more he thought about it, he wanted it to be him. There was no Sheldon involved in the picture…not until he showed up and presented Violet with the one thing better than a mind blowing kiss: a promise.

There was a contemptuous laughter coming from the graphite scraping under his wheels; even with the howling 'I told you so' of the wind in his ears, it was inevitable. Sweaty palms grinded against leather as he accelerated and pushed the bike forward. The speed of his motorcycle cooled the beads of sweat on the tip of each hair on his head. He refused to listen to the old contraption's pleas of distress. Hell, if the bike exploded, he would not mind.

Pete pulled into the familiar driveway, his old bike sputtering away even after he had gotten off of it. Pete kicked the motorcycle in frustration—Dell had been too correct—and stormed up to the front porch. His thumb jammed against the doorbell incessantly, the nerves in his hand taking a nap.

Finally, he was greeted with those familiar green eyes that sent his heart zooming to the moon. Lisa's brow crinkled in confusion, her face puffy from obvious crying. Finally, she shook her head in disbelief.

"P—Pete? What are you…?"

She hardly had a chance to finish her sentence, as Pete had already enveloped her body in his arms and pressed her lips against his hastily. Lisa, once getting over the initial shock of it all, let her eyelids flutter shut as she was brought back to happier times.

Pete's face flushed when he realized who he was imagining as he kissed Lisa. He had been spoiled by the kiss with Violet a few days ago that he had forgotten how it felt to kiss Lisa, a peanut butter sandwich kiss in comparison to Violet's London Broil. But as he stared into Lisa's eyes, eyes neither disdainful nor hopeful, he realized that Violet was probably out with her own sandwich right now, celebrating their newfound engagement. Pete scowled.

Lisa's feathery hands were on his chest, her eyes peering up at him. There was that unspoken language, girl language, that every girl he had been with had expected him to understand. If he had a nickel for every time Naomi or Addison or Violet gave him that look that he was just supposed to automatically figure out, he would have been a rich man. Honestly, he was no body language guru. Lisa's body was a midfield to him.

"What are you doing?" Lisa finally asked, her breath fogged by he aftermath of Pete's passionate gesture. Pete shrugged.

"I love you, Lisa," he whispered, his lips inches away from her neck. Pete could see the skin on her throat contracting as her breathing became labored. Was what he was feeling love? Or was he just using the words he could never say aloud to Violet on Lisa? There was no turning back now, what was done was done.

"But I thought…what about…? I thought we were over," Lisa admitted.

Pete shook his head. "It's never over."

As Lisa kissed him fervently, Pete could only help but feel hungry for more when he tasted peanut butter on his taste buds.

SAM

_It won't be long now_, Sam thought as he anxiously watched the digital clock at the bottom of his computer screen flick from new minute to new minute. Like a kid halfway through a ride to Disneyland, he could hardly sit still.

Naomi sat across from him, ringless finger resting on the end of her chin. Duncan was arriving to pick Naomi up for their date that night, and without a word, she had slumped into Sam's chair and watched the clock as well.

Sam understood that the problem with Dell was eating away at her, especially because Duncan was involved. Now, Naomi was torn: choose what she knows is right, or jeopardize everything and make it more complicated. But he knew one thing was for certain…Naomi was going to give Duncan a piece of her mind. Just the thought of all these things terrified his ex-wife. He knew her well enough to know that just sitting with her was doing wonders for her reeling brain.

If only things could be as easy with Addison, who walked around the practice like a prisoner on death row. Ultimately, Addison was the decision maker, and Sam knew that he probably should have left Naomi out of the matter to spare her any more damage. Now, Sam feared, he was left with a pile of dirty laundry that _he _was responsible for handling.

On some levels, he was satisfied with himself. He had gotten what he wanted; Naomi and Duncan were breaking up. Naomi would be free from the clutches of his Benedict Arnold of a friend. Sam's back was still sore and broken from where Duncan had stabbed it. Naomi groaned, a low sound of pain in her throat. How he wished he could wrap his strong, toned arms around her body again. Sam knew how to make the pain go away.

But he couldn't make the pain go away now. They were hardly friends anymore, and the Dell incident the other night had been another crack in the foundation. She had Duncan for that…

…Because of him, she would _not _have Duncan for that. Sure, what he had done to Sam was cruel and cold, but Sam kept reminding himself that no matter how icy Duncan came off, he was trying to act professional in front of his esteemed colleagues. Duncan was a people pleaser, and if it meant losing one friend to make two more people impressed with his smooth charm and charisma, he would stop at nothing to get it done.

As much as it killed Sam, Duncan pleased his ex-wife. When Naomi was with Duncan, Sam could literally see the stress in her features melt away. Naomi enjoyed having his arms around her. Even though some part of him wished that it was his hand on her shoulder, Sam could not let Naomi lose the only thing that shed some light on her life.

"Here he comes," Naomi announced. Even after she had claimed that Duncan was the 'scum of the earth', Sam could still see in her eyes the urgency to look presentable. He fought back a frown when she unbuttoned one of the buttons at the top of her blouse, her perfect cleavage showing off a little more than Sam had the willpower to handle.

Sam bit his lip and watched as Duncan received directions to his office from Dell, but not before glaring at the young receptionist when he began sauntering toward his office. Sam stole one final glance at Naomi, trying to catch a glimpse of her already flawless face in his tiny wall mirror.

No, he decided. He could not, would not, see Naomi in any more pain.

"Nae," he said softly. Duncan was growing closer to the doorknob, and Sam hesitated as Naomi met his stare. A flashing neon sign towered above his head. Do it now, or regret it forever, it said. Sam shook his head.

"Don't yell at him. He was just doing his job. Just drop that he ever was involved in the situation and go have fun," Sam told her. Naomi's eyebrow cocked upward at Sam's sudden sensitivity to his once-friend.

"Really?"

"Really. Go have fun," he repeated. "You deserve it."

Naomi flashed her brilliant smile in his direction before she got up and smoothed out the bumps and wrinkles in her clothing, grabbed her purse, and met Duncan ahead of him coming into Sam's office. Sam watched them walk off, sighing as Duncan wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Did he even notice that her shoulders were slumped, that her eyes always held one tear for safe keeping, or that she had just been furious with him two minutes ago?

Sam ran a hand down his face. Some things in Naomi were just reserved to be noticed by him, he supposed. Realizing what he was doing, Sam shook his head in denial and turned back to his computer screen, which had gone blank from his time idle.

His heart and his head were at war. They both agreed on one thing: he still had feelings for his ex-wife. The head was sure that those feelings were certainly not love or jealousy, but the heart disagreed every chance it got. Sam sighed, opting agree with both.

So…he was a little jealous and still a little in love. What did it matter, anyway? They were not even friends anymore. There was no way Naomi would ever feel the same.

CHARLOTTE

"So it's settled, then. Haley gets my iPod, Erika gets my Playbill collection, and Julie can have my old scrapbook," Jess declared as she scribbled these ideas down on a piece of torn notebook paper. Charlotte eyed Leah, who sat alongside Jess and had her head buried in her hands.

"Jessica, we've been over this before. The surgery may work. You don't know for sure…" Leah began, only to cut herself off when Jess rolled her eyes and stopped to glare at Leah.

"Mom, let's face it logically here: I have a tumor that's, like, ten thousand leagues under the sea, and there's a one in a million chance the neurologist will be able to remove it. I'm going to die."

"Not if we stay positive, Jess! We have to look at the positives, here…"

"What positives, Mom?" Jess' tongue whipped her mother aside. Charlotte fought back a gasp. In Alabama, where she had grown up, Jess would have been spanked silly for using that tone with her mother.

"Cancer is cancer. Sometimes it's for better, and sometimes, it's for worse. In my case, it's for worse," Jess told her, cooling down. Charlotte watched with a weary eye as Leah tried desperately to control her sobbing. Not that she was eavesdropping...the door to Jess' just so happened to be wide open, and she had been on her way to deliver the news that the OR was ready anyway.

"But you're going to go in to be prepped for surgery in a few minutes, Baby. Doctor Freedman should be here soon. It _could _work…"

"But it could also _not _work, Mom. I'm not trying to be negative, I'm just trying to expect the worst here."

"Trying to expect the worst," Leah repeated grumpily. "Got it."

Charlotte could see the cancer literally cutting away at what little connection Jess and her mother had. She sighed as she remembered her own mother, coming and going with the waning and waxing of each year. Jess truly did not know how lucky she had it, to have such a caring mother by her side and telling her everything was going to be okay.

She thought of Cooper, and Dell, and the video she had been so fortunate to walk in on the other night. The words Dell had spoken did not necessarily come as a shock to her, more like a punch in the gut. If Dell, of all people, thought of her in that way, what did other people, important people, think? Certainly Pacific Wellcare would suffer almost as badly as Oceanside would after hearing what the Dell Parker had to say. What was worse, Cooper hardly did anything to stop it, to warn her.

The constant pain that had been ringing in her heart since that night sent Charlotte gasping. Who would be there for her? Who would tell her that everything was going to be okay?

She jumped when she heard Leah's teary huff. "Where's the doctor? You need to go in for surgery, and they're three minutes late!" Charlotte took that as her cue.

"Hello, Mrs. Finch, Jess. I'm Doctor Charlotte King and I will be supervising your surgery today. Dr. Drew is scrubbing in as we speak… Let's get goin', shall we?" Charlotte said in her best manner, keeping the profession in her voice to a minimum.

When she was dealing with snobby, whiny adults who had gone through most of their lives complaining, it was a whole other story. But with children, especially those as scared and unsure as Jessica Finch was, Charlotte felt the case hit home. It would always be a different case with kids for her.

"Oh," Jess remarked, her mouth forming the letter and her eyes matching it in fear. "Oh…okay. Let's go." Charlotte took hold of one side of Jess' bed while a nurse took a side of the other. She did not dare look down at the face of that innocent child again. All she could see when she looked into those terrified eyes was that word, big and bold:

Tumor.

Leah's heels clacked in unison to Charlotte's the sound of an echo bouncing back to her ears and rattling her already shaken brain. There was no denying the fear in both of these women. Jess lay perfectly still, her eyes closed and her breathing short, as if she were already dying.

Leah, to Charlotte's surprise, said nothing. The blonde woman peered over her shoulder to see Jess' mother watching with intense eyes, breaths short, her hand over her heart. Some things were best delivered unspoken, she mused. Finally, they came to the door of the OR, and it was time for Charlotte's least favorite part of working with a sick child: saying goodbye. Leah wiped another stray tear from her eye, breathing jagged, and kissed Jess' forehead.

"It's going to be okay, Baby, just keep thinking that," Leah told her. Jess' eyes fluttered open and her mouth produced the beginnings of another protest, but Leah placed a hand on her daughter's white lips and shook her head.

"I _need _you to think that it's going to be okay, Jessica. Do this for Mommy," Leah pleaded, her hand grabbing Jess' sweaty palm and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Charlotte had to look away when Jess let one single tear, a tear that was short in supply but contained every human emotion, and nodded.

"Okay, Mom. I'll try…but I can't promise anything…"

"I know, I know," Leah whispered. She stole a glance over her shoulder at Charlotte and patted the side of Jess' bed. "Now go ahead. I'll see you at the finish line. Love you."

"You too."

Leah did not let go until the nurse pulled the bed as far as she could. Charlotte could swear she heard a hole rip open in space when the two girls' hands unclasped. Charlotte felt herself freeze when she felt Leah's wet eyes on her back.

"It's hard, I know," Charlotte muttered. Leah sniffled, the only sign that she agreed. "No one can predict these things…"

"But people can put these things to an end if they catch it in time," Leah supplied, floating, ghost-like beside Charlotte. Charlotte nodded slowly.

"Yes…"

"I didn't catch it in time. Oh my gosh, I saw my own daughter dying and…all those times I told her she was fine, go back to bed, just because I needed my sleep…I didn't catch it in time. My daughter's going to die, and it's all my fault, I'm such a bad mother!"

"Mrs. Finch," Charlotte began, trying to reason with the woman. "You are _not _bad mother." Charlotte's eyes averted to the ceiling, unable to look the grieving mother in the eye. If Leah had met _her _mother—or even Sylvia Turner—she would reconsider the comment.

Leah let out a painstaking cry and smacked herself in the head with the hand that was not clutching to her heart. She was sweating so wildly it appeared as though she had just gotten out of a pool. Her left arm was limp as the right arm continued to clutch onto her chest.

"I did this! It's my fault she's in there and scared! I'm such a bad…"

Charlotte pivoted in a split second once she heard the crash of a body beside her as it fell to the floor. Leah's eyes had rolled to the back of her head and she appeared to no longer be breathing. Charlotte dove to the floor, checking the woman's faint pulse, and widened her eyes in disbelief.

"I need a crash cart!" Charlotte barked at the shocked huddle of nosy nurses and eager interns around Leah's Jell-O body. "Now! One of your morons get me a crash cart and a ventilator…stat!"

She turned back to the woman, a puddle of familiar red liquid forming around her head from when skull met floor. Blood was always ten times scarier to see when it was on the floor of a hospital. Charlotte found the quickest resource possible, her hand, and pushed it hard against Leah's bleeding scalp. She felt the warm gushing fighting her palm.

She did not understand. She had only turned away from Leah for a moment, just to curse her horrible mother, wherever she may be, and now, a good mother was suffering. How could this have happened?

"Mrs. Finch?" Charlotte asked. When the woman stopped breathing altogether, Charlotte let out a cry of her own. "Mrs. Finch!"

_No pain could be deeper  
No life could be cheaper  
No point anymore if I can't love her  
No spirit could win me  
No hope left within me  
Hope I could have loved her and that she'd set me free  
But it's not to be  
If I can't have her  
Let the world be done with me_

**A/N: So I'm back and more frustrated than ever. I wasn't entirely happy with this chapter for some reason, even after I had done all the research for Leah's symptoms and stuff. I guess it just felt too rushed and repetitive to me...but I really wanted to get this out there before my school year starts tomorrow, so I'm hoping it's not too pitiful. Anything to keep Idina around in my fandom world ;) What im trying to say amisdt my babbling and degrading myself is....some reviews would be stellar. **

**-ILoVeWicked**

**PS- By the way, the song holds a very special place in my heart b/c Beauty and the Beast was my first B-Way show. Such a beautiful song.**


	20. Wanted Dead or Alive

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just the voices in my head, and they aren't too valuable.**

**Wanted Dead or Alive**

_It__'s all the same, only the names will change  
Everyday it seems were wasting away  
Another place where the faces are so cold  
I'd drive all night just to get back home_

SAM

Scalding drops of caramel, two sugars, one cream and eight ounces of coffee sent Sam hissing as they sweltered his skin.

Naturally, it was expected that whenever she walked in the room, he would go weak in the knees and sweaty in the hands. He anticipated that and therefore always cautioned himself whenever he got the feeling she was near. Never did he expect to spill his freshly brewed drink down his shirt in surprise once he heard her huff of frustration fill the room, echo off the walls, and rattle his eardrums to the point of a reaction.

"How was your date?" Sam asked, his fork jabbing extra hard into the green leaves of his salad to dense the pain somewhat. Naomi's lower lip jutted out in that adorable way it always did when she was distressed or panicked. It was usually hard to take Naomi seriously when she had that gorgeous pout on her face.

Naomi threw her hands up in the air, praying to whoever had it in for the practice in the world above, and replied, "Horrible! I couldn't even _look _at Duncan without thinking about Dell!"

"I'm sorry I ever mentioned it, Nae," Sam told her as he shifted in his seat. The drops of coffee continued to make route down the crevices of his chiseled abs, slowly setting his entire body on fire. She shook her head.

"No, no…I'm glad you did," Naomi assured him, a small smile appearing on her lips. "I just…I think of Sylvia, and what she said about other people talking…and then I think of Dell, and how sincere he seemed about not knowing about the making of the video and…I just want to do what's right for the practice but…"

"I don't know what that is," Sam finished the thought for her, as it mirrored his own.

What Sylvia had said and done had rattled just about everyone in their own way. Sam knew that firing innocent Dell would be what the law said was ethically, morally, and politically right, but he also knew that firing Dell without hearing what he had to say was ethically, morally and politically _wrong_. Suddenly, it hit him like lightning confirming a shower. The dusty light bulb hidden across the vast deserts and towering forests of Sam's mind illuminated every idea that had been left in the dark over the past few hectic months.

"That's it!" Sam exclaimed, rocketing upward from his chair. Naomi eyed his now obvious coffee stain and Sam grew red as she fought the urge to laugh and point a finger at him. Not that he would mind any attention from Naomi, that is.

"What?" Naomi asked, her voice thick with ridicule at Sam's coordination.

"We need to talk to Dell…you know, hear what he has to say. Then, we can come to a decision about this whole thing," Sam explained, unsure of how his answer would be graded.

Even in medical school, Sam never really considered himself the leader of the pack. He always let Mark or Derek—even, on occasion, Addison or Naomi—make up the plan or decision and went along with it. Sam never minded just blending in with his crowd. Occasionally, he had a good idea himself. It was just after witnessing the countless times any of them had devised a genius plan, and watching the consequence that usually unraveled itself in failure afterward, that he just fell farther and farther into the foggy background.

Naomi, to his surprise, nodded enthusiastically.

"Sam, you're brilliant!" she exclaimed, flashing her set of pearly whites that contrasted her soft, chocolate skin. Sam was in awe of not only Naomi's beauty, but the fact that he had come up with a proposal.

"I am? I mean—I _am_!" Sam replied cheerfully, making his way around his desk to join Naomi, whose smiling would become overkill for anyone else walking the halls of the practice.

"Yeah! We should just talk to Dell, get his side of the story, and then explain to Duncan that it was all one big misunderstanding!" Naomi chirped.

She caught Sam completely off guard when her lips, soft and light as rose petals, pecked his cheek. It only took an instant for the kiss to happen, and it only took an instant for the tingling sensation it left on his cheek to travel throughout his veins. That kiss supplied him with a whole new kind of oxygen: the kind that made him go lightheaded and seek the corner of his desk for support.

So much for not being friends anymore. That conversation was yesterday's news.

"Ugh, Sam, I have _no _idea what I would do without you!" Naomi gushed as she frolicked through the doorway and towards the front counter.

Sam sighed as he watched her skip off. He was the one who made her smile for the first time in weeks. He was the one with the scathingly brilliant plan up his sleeve. He was the one who got the kiss.

But at the end of the day, Naomi still went home with Duncan.

DELL

The clock ahead of him ticked away, another stolen hour of Dell's life lost to his self-loathing.

He was angry with himself, to say the least. What could have possibly possessed him to create the Youtube video was no longer churning inside him, flushed away with the vomit from his hangover. He had deleted the video and his old Youtube account the second he had arrived in his empty apartment, disgusted by the humongous amount of views and comments on the video, many of the few he chose to skim his eyes over _supporting _drunken Dell.

Yet still, the removal of the video did nothing to help with the roaring wind storm going through his heart as he watched the practice falling apart. Addison had come in to work wearing two different stilettos that morning. Violet refused to look at him. Cooper was taking Advil for his headaches. Pete's scowl, Dell feared, would go permanent on his face. Charlotte never showed up for booty calls anymore. Sam was muttering incoherent phrases and Naomi was jittering with endless useless chores she had created for herself to keep busy from crying. These were the people he used to know, now barren of emotion and shaken to the core. He was partially to blame for it all, the silver lining to the practice's problems. No, it was not the looks of hate from young mothers and elderly couples in the check-out line that irked him most, it was the feeling of knowing that he had single-handedly ruined eight people's lives, including his own, that sent him spiraling.

Since then, he had picked himself back up, grabbing extra coffee without complaining, staying quiet when he knew his opinion was pointless at morning meetings, and finishing work in a week's advance. He had made a complete turnaround since the video had been made.

Dell clicked furiously at his mouse, the dial-up internet connection on the computer malfunctioning once again. His failures as a computer savvy receptionist was only another reminder as to why he did not deserve to sit at his desk. His resisted the urge to bang the machine for the sake of not drawing any more attention to himself. A week ago, all he wanted to do was think about the praise he deserved for finding Layla and pulling her through her dark tunnel. Layla, along with Betsy and Heather, sat in the back of his mind now. Her problems, though prominent, were a grain of sand on the scale of his troubles.

"Ahem," someone from above cleared their throat. Dell whipped his head upward to realize that he was literally being looked down by Naomi and Sam, the people who had taken him under his wing. Though his alter-ego refused to agree, the Bennetts would always be his paternal figures more so than his biological parents ever were.

"Oh, hey, guys!" Dell said breezily, hoping for the lighthearted edge in his voice to stand out over the fear. "I have your files right here, let me grab them…"

Before he could turn around, Sam spoke his name.

"Dell, we need to talk."

Dell smiled weakly and stood to be eye level with the two of them. "Uh…okay." Naomi sighed and placed a hand cautiously beside his. Usually warm and touchy-feely, Naomi's behavior toward him was odd.

"Dell, about that video…" Naomi began. Her lips formed around the words that choked her up, and Sam took the lead.

"It was disgraceful to our practice."

"I know that," Dell fired back. "I removed it the other night."

Sam's face hardened. "Really, did you remove the video from all of the other sites it spread to?" Dell but his lip, he hadn't thought of how viral his video had become, an uncontrollable wildfire, popping up in an inbox and averting people from him and his colleagues one by one.

Sam continued, "Dell you can erase the video, but you cannot erase the fact that it had been _made _to begin with."

"What are you saying?" Dell asked in near hysterics. All this time, he had thought he had done the right thing by deleting that video. When he thought about it, was there ever really a right way to end this ongoing war? Once he had gotten over one battle, he could only anticipate turning around to face another. Naomi empathetically placed her other hand over her heart.

"Dell, Duncan came by the other day and addressed Sam about the video. He explained that…we would need to fire you, or the practice would have to face court," Naomi explained.

Dell's eyes grew wide and blurred with unmanly tears. He knew that court would require too much work for this crumbling practice to handle at the moment. Sam and Naomi would not want to put that weight on themselves and the others. After all, they had everyone to consider. Court would put them on the news even more than they had been, and court was overall the more difficult choice.

Which meant one thing…

Dell could understand their choice to not want to deal with going against the law for him, but letting go himself was unfathomable. His entire career, he had been built up on what he learned at Oceanside. The people he had known were his family, and they had all chosen to go against him. Dell finally knew what they all felt like when he betrayed them, as they had all come full circle in just a matter of days.

"What are you saying? You're just going to fire me? Just like that?"

Naomi had begun talking again, the cadence and tone in her voice oddly calm. This only irked Dell further, his fist came into contact with the hard counter, throbbing in pain afterward. He refused to listen to what she had to say. Nothing could take away from the fact that he had been pushed away by the people who had taken him in.

"No! No! You don't get to do this to me!" Dell screamed, drawing the attention of the young and old in the lobby. Naomi and Sam exchanged a weary glance as Dell spitballed at them. He ranted on to tell them all that he was feeling, even though he had never planned to share them aloud. The pages of his mental diary were streaming out of his mouth, much his brain's protest. He knew this only exposed him more, only angered him more.

"I can't believe this! I thought you two especially would find it yourselves to forgive me for my stupid mistake. You think I don't know how dumb it was? You think I'm not humiliated? I thought you would see that too, but apparently, we're all on different pages again. Whatever."

"Dell, we're not trying to fire you," Naomi insisted.

"If you would just let us talk…" Sam began. His once feelings for Naomi were still slightly telling the demons of his mind, so easily awakened, to shut his mouth for one moment. What they had to say would change everything. He would come up short again, but he would still have a job.

What Dell did next was unplanned, it even took him by surprise. "You can't fire me, because I quit!"

"Dell!" Naomi cried out, exasperated. Sam buried his head in his hands. They continued to play with fire by doing these things, only pushing him farther off the edge. He was unreachable now, on a tirade of his own that no one could stop him of. No, the domino effect just kept going and going. Dell huffed, throwing patient files into the air as he stormed around the desk and to the elevator without a word.

COOPER

"Okay, so would you rather…be bitten by a snake or bitten by a shark?" Cooper inquired as credits for an Indiana Jones movie rolled across the television screen. Violet gazed up at him with a weary eye, clearly not in the mood to be playing Would You Rather…although Cooper had been going at it the whole movie.

"Remind me again why this is supposed to be fun?" she groaned, throwing a pillow over her enlarged stomach and playing a balancing game of her own with it. Cooper rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, Vi, since when was the last time you had fun?" Cooper nagged her, poking her on the shoulder. With each repetition, his jabs grew harder, and with each repetition, Violet's smile got a little bigger.

"Was that rhetorical? Or do I actually have to answer that?" Violet muttered, the realization drawing in and setting her somber once more. Cooper sighed and shrugged.

"Nope, start answering, and if you want to throw in snake or shark, by all means go right ahead," Cooper encouraged her. Facetious tones lingered within his words. In no way was he trying to upset her any further. If anything, he was just trying to cheer his best friend up.

He supposed all of these gestures were out of his lack of attention toward Violet the past few weeks. Since Sylvia entered in all her boisterous glory, Cooper had arrogantly been brushed to the side. A good friend would have kept his distance. A good friend would have let Sylvia tyrant her little sister, his friend's life, because he knew he should never butt into a family matter. But a best friend, which up to this point, Cooper had considered himself to be, would have pushed Sylvia right back.

With all the drama swirling around Jess and the video and Charlotte, he had been negligent to the one person who needed him most, therefore letting Sylvia take control and get the best of Violet. The very next day, she was scheduled for a paternity test, sealing any ideas or hopes she may have had, but never cared to share with anyone but Cooper. She could no longer voice her opinion; it was out of her control. But Cooper could have, he realized, put Sylvia in her place for Violet.

He could have done so many things, but he was never there.

"_Hello_? Coop, you there?" Violet asked, her soft hands, always housing a small tremble, wrapping around his forearm. Cooper jumped in shock and nodded.

"Um, yeah, yeah…I'm here," Cooper assured her. Reeling Violet in towards him, her body leaning awkwardly into his as he gave her a bear hug, he repeated the words, "I'm here."

"Well, isn't that touching?" someone commented cynically from her usual perch on the stairs, snooping away into Violet's life yet again. Cooper rolled his eyes and plastered on his fake smile, worn from the constant abuse it had been given lately.

"Good evening, Sylvia," Cooper regarded her sappily as Violet pushed herself up out of Cooper's grasp and attempted to appear presentable. Sylvia simply rolled her eyes and stood, long legs gracefully striding to join them.

"Isn't it about time you hopped into your Ninja Turtle pajamas and left my sister alone? She needs her sleep, you know," Sylvia remarked snidely as she slammed off the television. Violet's face was a blank projector, emitting only the emotions Sylvia wanted to see, which was easily none whatsoever.

"Vi, Honey, you've got a big day tomorrow!" Sylvia told her happily. The monster Cooper had almost been eaten by a few days ago had vanished, as if her tantrum had never happened, and Sylvia was suddenly the same old Sylvia again. Cooper gave a sideward glance toward Violet, an emotional rollercoaster herself, and wondered what kind of twisted estrogen had been passed around the Turner family tree.

"Yeah," Violet answered softly, "I know. _Big _day."

"Lights out in five, okay?" Sylvia presented the standards as if she were CIT. Violet, the wimpy camper, nodded in surrender.

Then again, Sylvia did hold them _both _on a tight leash around the house. Just the other day, Cooper had been reaching for a much-anticipated doughnut when he had been greeted with the condescending _tsk-tsk_ of Sylvia.

"A minute on the lips, forever on the hips," she had sung out, enraging Cooper to the final straw. He ate the doughnut whole, a skill he had acquired from his childhood fair days but had never been able to put to good use, to smite and disgust that witch. He would have rather been fat than unhappy, he told Sylvia. Never again was he bothered in the mornings to come. Powdering his face with sugary delights, he could not help but feel strong. After all, he had his pride and dignity to thank for his Krispy Kremes.

Not Violet. Not even so much as a hint of self-defense had been whipped out at Sylvia, and Cooper watched this with shock. How could Violet, how could anyone, let themselves be treated in such a way?

"Goodnight, Violet! Goodnight, Conrad."

"It's Cooper."

"Do I care?"

Immediately, Cooper's eyes were on Violet, scanning her for any possible damage. When he found nothing, he felt safe enough to be the next in a very long line of reprimanding toward Violet.

"Okay, I'm sorry, but I can't handle her anymore!" Cooper expressed his anger in heated whisper, careful not to trigger Sylvia's dog-like senses. "She's got to go; that bitch is driving me crazy!"

"Cooper!" Violet exclaimed, appalled at his adjective abuse. Cooper rolled his eyes, leaning closer towards Violet.

"Oh, please, like you don't see it!"

"See what?" Violet huffed, her hands folding across her chest in anger.

"How much trouble your sister is creating? She won't even let me live down a frickin' doughnut, Violet! She just unbearable!"

"I know, I know, she's judgmental, and crude, and a bunch of other things, but as much damage as she does, she's my sister Cooper. I can't desert her now, not when she needs me…"

"Well, have you seen what she does to you?" Cooper hissed. There was no well-developed therapist response shooting back at him for that. Violet's eyes glazed over in confusion, as if she were just realizing this for the first time.

"Yoohoo! Four minutes and thirty seconds is up!" Sylvia chimed from upstairs. "You've got to look presentable for Spawn Labeling day tomorrow, Sweetie!"

Cooper stood, unable to deal with the situation at hand any longer. He looked down at his best friend, a crumpled form of what she was before, and sighed. Jess was a tragedy, but he could help her. The video Dell had made was degrading, but he would live it down. Charlotte was a mess, but with enough pleading, she would let him in. But this was out of his control. Violet's problem was on her, and as much as he wished he could be the one to make it all go away, there was nothing he could do.

"I'm going to bed," he muttered.

"Cooper, I…"

"Just do what you need to do, Vi."

Later that night, he would stay awake and count the globs of dried paint on the ceiling until he listened for Violet's feet padding along her sister's guestroom carpet. He would listen to her whisper to Sylvia, listen to Sylvia stir and scold Violet for waking her at three in the morning, listen to Violet's tiny exposition.

"I just...I need to talk to you about something. It's important and I..."

He would listen as Sylvia simply regarded her sister's conversation with a "Goodnight, Violet."

And he would listen as the feet made their way back to their room, giving up the fight again.

While Cooper was left to angrily consume himself in the pity of his best friend's predicament, he failed to even acknowledge his cellphone, which had been vibrating all night with frantic calls from St. Ambrose Hospital's Cheif of Staff.

_Sometimes I sleep, sometimes its not for days  
And the people I meet always go their separate ways  
Sometimes you tell the day  
By the bottle that you drink  
And times when youre all alone all you do is think_

**A/N: So yay! We've reached the 20 chapter point! Sorry it's been a while, the school year has started for me (bleh :p) and already I've had a TON of work on top of my other million commitments, so all of my free time has been comsumed with eating and sleeping. But I did manage to finish this baby up today, and I'm content with it...that may be just because all I've typed in two weeks is a lab on evolution and notes, but I wouldn't know. So please review and let me know what you think, because your comments are pretty much only things getting me through another week of school...and I say pretty much because my parents are the only other things _making _me go, much to my dislike :/ Thanks!**

**-ILoVeWicked**

**PS- Who else is totally excited for this Thursday?! And less than 2 weeks until the PrP season premiere :D Ah, Glee, Grey's, and Private Practice to end my days...this should be nice. **


	21. There's a Fine, Fine Line

**Disclaimer: Believe me, I don't own a thing.**

**Chapter 21- There's a Fine, Fine Line**

_There's a fine, fine line between a lover and a friend  
There's a fine, fine line between reality and pretend  
And you never know 'til you reach the top if it was worth the uphill climb  
There's a fine, fine line between love  
And a waste of time_

ADDISON

It was times like these, when she had the moments to sit and actually observe her fellow co-workers and the patients that circulated through the practice, Addison was compelled to think about the one person she did not want to think about most. Addison snorted in disgust as his face popped up in her head.

What was he to her? A shiny golden necklace that she knew would be too expensive for her? An unopened birthday gift, which she knew she could not touch until the time was appropriate?

No matter how she put it, he was something she could never, ever have. It was futile, how much she wanted it, wanted him. Noah Barnes was off limits. Every possible hope for a chance of a future the two may have been able to have, the dreams even her mind would refuse to admit, were nothing but balloons filled with the wasteful air of wishing, just waiting to be released into the air, into space, to be popped in the forceful hands of gravity's chokehold.

More than anything, Addison did not _want _to think about these thoughts. Pete walked by, grimacing at the unknown argument going on in his brain. Normally, Addison would have picked apart the situation he was in, and she would have easily been able to understand what exactly was going on with him. But she did not have to be a rocket scientist to know that a particular pregnant therapist was on his mind.

Just thinking about Pete and Violet and their oblivious denial, believing that their love for one another was unrequited got her on the subject of Noah. Unlike Pete's saga, there were no hidden gestures, no secret longings, and no constant swerves in the road for her and Noah. In fact, there was just one major detour keeping her from crossing the road to who they wanted.

Robotic Violet ducked out of Pete's path, face drained of human emotions, jacket clinging tightly around her and nestled in her white knuckles, as she made her way to Sylvia's scheduled paternity test. Addison shook her head. Pete had everything he wanted right in front of his eyes.

So did she, but the primal difference between her and Pete: he could have Violet. She could never have Noah.

Sam scurried past her office next, his entire scalp folding over like a pug dog as he muttered soft judgments to himself. Addison could never wrap her finger around exactly _why _Sam left Naomi. It was obvious that they still loved each other, clearly exhibited by the carefully jaded remarks of jealousy and excessive eating on each of their behalves when the other had a date. Addison's nose curved upward in suspicion as she thought about Naomi's current interest, Duncan. There was something fishy about that man, though she could not put her finger on it. Something about his utmost presence irked her. Either way, Naomi was slightly happy with the stuffy lawyer. He was no Sam, but he was good enough for her to ebb off of him.

Naomi groaned. She held her cell phone at her ear as she continued her attempts to call Dell and try to reason with him. Naturally, all of her fifty-eight calls had gone to voice mail. Her eyes caught Sam's, and Addison could swear, she saw both of their dark faces reveal a tinge of red.

Naomi and Sam were a perfect fit. They had been since Addison had known them. There were some things that were subject to change that Addison always took to fact, the ever present love, no matter what the quantity, between Sam and Naomi being one of them.

Were she and Noah a perfect fit? Well, there were some questions she feared she could never answer.

Cooper stomped past her next, nearly sending his wind of fury in her direction. Addison had never seen such a cheery person, usually the only one spreading light on the glum situations, so angry. She knew he was wrapped up, too involved, as Richard Webber would say, in his patient's situation as he continued screaming into the phone to whom she could only assume was Charlotte about the patient's mother collapsing. Addison supposed she should get more involved with Cooper's problems with the young girl and her mother, at least try to talk to him about how to handle the stress of becoming attached to a case as she so often found herself doing, but she stayed planted in her seat.

In some ways, she felt for the surly blonde on the other end of the line as well. Charlotte had been sucked right into that video, and her practice was most likely paying a price for it as well. She never came by the practice anymore for her little dates with Cooper, though they had never officially announced a break-up. It was obvious that he was miserable without her, going to the extent of wrapping himself emotionally into the little cancerous girl's case. Did Charlotte have to be so stubborn as to not let Cooper in? Did she not see that he was hurting just as much as she was?

Addison sighed as she thought of Morgan, plump and contented, and she wondered if Noah was keeping his promise. The inactive cell phone and the empty doorway confirmed the inquiry to be, sadly, true. This gave her hope—at least he was making an effort—but this also discouraged her.

Addison's eyes grew wide with the sudden realization. She could sit in her office, wasting away her free time by playing matchmaker, all she wanted. She could maneuver her friends backwards and forwards, side to side, all she wanted on her imaginary chess board, anyway she wanted to. But there was one move she could not make, one move that would evaporate the high of winning the title Doctor Love. No matter how she tried to set up her playing field, her puny little knight could not get to the king.

Gasping, Addison's hand flew to her throbbing heart. Check mate.

NAOMI

Naomi was well aware of the five stages of grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. Those words were ever present around her at every moment. In the eyes of a couple going through fertility struggles, the patients that came to Violet about a loss, the people who worked beside her every day, Sylvia Turner, and even in her daughter's melodramatic boy problems, there was grief. She was used to it, numbed by its contagious powers. She had even taken a course on those very words in college. There was no way she would let greif affect her.

But what about the five stages of love? Could the same apply to the only emotion stronger than grief? Naomi shook her head at the silly thought while she analyzed Sam, mumbling to himself, taking a stance of concentration. That was a ridiculous thought, loving Sam. She had Duncan now, and she was happy…not to mention divorced.

Naomi froze. Did that count as denial, she wondered.

Her thoughts drifted back to Duncan. Churning emotions that Sam had urged her to closet bubbled back at the surface once more as she thought of the man who was supposedly Sam's friend, blackmailing her ex-husband with weaknesses and convincing him not to tell her about it. How she wished she could have told him off.

Naomi bit her lip. There was no denying the anger she felt for Duncan.

And then, she mused, what would have happened if she had broken up with her new attorney boyfriend? Would Sam have taken her back again? Naomi hardly noticed that she was smiling to herself as she imagined the trade off from man to man.

Naomi's hand fluttered to her mouth. Bargaining.

A dark cloud swelled over Naomi's head as she thought about Dell, and how well she and Sam had almost handled that situation. The cloud began to churn rain and electricity when she thought harder about Sam. How she had given up such a great, caring, intelligent man. There seemed to be no hope left in the world for their ship.

Naomi fought back a groan when she realized what she was doing. Flailing her hands in the air to get rid of her jumbled thoughts, Naomi assured herself that she was not going through depression.

"Hey, Nae, I need to go out on a house call. If Dell answers or you need me or anything, just let me know and I'll be right back." Sam's words sneak attacked her as his strong arms were just inches away from her. Every part of her body convulsed with whines to be embraced by those dark, luscious arms, but her head reasoned her magnetic nerves to stay still.

"Okay," she choked out meekly. Sam winked, flashed his brilliant smile, and then he was gone. Naomi sighed as she watched him walk off into the elevator. She supposed that this, the helpless longing, was as good as it got. She just had to accept that.

Naomi wanted to hit herself at that moment. Hand frozen in mid-air, she watched the elevator doors slide shut as the word 'acceptance' blared across the I-Max screen of her mind.

She huffed. This all just had to be coincidence. Surely, she could not be feeling the five stages of grief over Sam's heart. It was ridiculous to think that the five stages of grief could even coincide with her inappropriate emotions towards her ex-husband. She was not grieving; she was as happy as she could be.

Naomi sighed once more. Happiness was a long shot from where she was.

DELL

Without a job, as Dell preferred to call it, was blatantly known as unemployed to every other person. Whether or not he enjoyed it, he had become a self prisoner to unemployment, bound by the chains of his weighing mistakes and emotions.

Being 'unemployed' gave him a lot of time to reflect on Layla. He did not bother telling her much about his current job status, and she never once asked as she obliged to his constant seeing of each other. Ever since that night in the park, there was a mutual understanding between the two of them. His pain was her pain.

In some ways, Dell wondered if it was too good to be true. Surely, Layla's rape had to do some emotional scarring to her fragile tissue, could it not? And before he knew it, he would be throttled into Layla's dark hole of problems, much similar, and yet still in another league, to his own. When that switch did go off, switching her from normal to twisted and dark, would he stick around for it? He had seen enough dark and twisty in his life time to handle any more of it, especially about this girl whom he truly cared about.

He also feared that Layla—the Layla he had known so well—would turn into his worst nightmare: Heather. Painkillers could surely ease away the pain that Layla was feeling, but would they push her to the extent of tearing Kyleigh away from Jake? The thought of sweet, innocent Layla committing such a crime got him sweating.

Still, he could not help but notice, as her soft, cool fingertips tingled his scalp while they ran through his hair, that there was always some caution, some hesitation, to each kiss. He had never taken advantage of her, not once. He knew the amount of courage it took to get back in the game after such torture.

Although that night, Layla appeared to not be holding back. She kissed him with a newfound passion that he had never seen in her, and Dell, in the height of his woes, was not one to object to Layla's commands. Her fingers fumbled chaotically over the buttons of her blouse while his nervous hands shakily fell over his belt buckle. He had never felt more alive, completely lost in the moment.

But the second he closed his eyes, it all changed.

Images of his hardships—his sick father, his wimpy mother, the shivering form of high Heather, the beautiful face of Betsy, and the image of his blurred, red-eyed self broadcasting his former co-worker's personal lives. Dell pulled away, gripping to his side to gather some air. Layla, to his surprise, was doing the same. Tears cascaded down her face as she shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she cried. "It's just every time I close my eyes…I see him."

Dell scooted over to her place on his living room floor. His arm slowly coiled around her shaking shoulders. Dell buried his head in her satiny hair, grateful for the setback. In a way, they were exactly alike; every time Dell's eyelids created darkness, the image of his 'him': his own, stupid self.

"I know, I know," Dell whispered. "You have every right to hate him."

The last part, he added for his own benefit. He had every right to hate himself as well.

_And I don't have the time to waste on you anymore  
I don't think that you even know what you're looking for  
For my own sanity, I've got to close the door  
And walk away_

**Hey, everyone! So this is kind of a filler, drabbly chapter, but at least it's an update, right? And yes, I will admit, the Grey's Anatomy premiere (which I was pretty unimpressed with, for some reason) DID inspire Naomi's part of the chapter, but I had originally wanted to use the five stages of grief at some point in the story, and after the premiere, this seemed like a good opportunity. I tried to diverge from making it like Grey's, though. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and PLEASE REVIEW! I have 2 major tests to study for and the science fair is mandatory this year (bleh...), and I've got some dusting and working out to do on top of my cold. I'm not looking forward to doing any of it, so some reviews would really cheer me up even though I know that this is a filler chappie. Thanks!**

**-ILoVeWicked **


	22. I Know Him So Well

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

_**I Know Him So Well**_

_Nothing is so good it lasts eternally  
Perfect situations must go wrong  
But this has never yet prevented me  
Wanting far too much for far too long_

CHARLOTTE

The only thing that separated her supposed boyfriend from a smack across his usually cheeky face was the glass door, closing off the outside world from her hospital. The automatic piece of junk flew open at the detection of Cooper's running and allowed entrance to the pink faced, wheezing man.

"Cooper," Charlotte regarded his doubled over figure softly. She was angry with him, and that was putting her emotions lightly. Fury powered behind her every move, her every breath.

She naturally, as much as she knew whose fault this was and was not, wanted to place the blame for this incident on _somebody_. Whether it was Violet, the most probable reason for Cooper's phone neglect, or even Leah's divorcee for that matter, Charlotte had always found a scapegoat for the disputes, medical or personal, in her life. As Cooper's gaze hastily met with hers, Charlotte bit her lip from crying out in anguish. She had searched far and wide, but even Violet could not be accused of what happened to Leah. Nobody could forsee the mother becoming a patient as well as her daughter.

"What happened?" Cooper grumbled as he regained his composure. Charlotte's pointed chin cocked upward, her signature scowl planted firmly in position.

"The kid just went into surgery; Leah started getting upset and the next thing I knew she was on the floor," Charlotte explained quickly, words getting lost in the folds of her flapping Southern tongue. Cooper's hands pattered shakily across the touch-screen of his phone, the gadget receiving his undivided attention suddenly.

"Was she showing signs of anything strange at all?" Cooper inquired without looking up.

Charlotte gave a noticeable shrug, and when he still refused to look up at her, perched her heel out in front of Cooper, tripping and stopping him in his tracks.

Ignoring Cooper's obvious annoyed glares, Charlotte crossed her skinny arms across her chest and widened her eyes in sarcasm. "Gee, I dunno, Coop. I was too busy worrying about _your _patient…you know, the one with the _tumor_! Not her seemingly healthy mother!" she snarled. Cooper rolled his eyes.

"Obviously, 'seemingly healthy' not the case," Cooper muttered, taking in Charlotte's white coat, splattered with Leah's blood. Charlotte's eyes briefly met where his were glued to, on her ruby-stained hand, her dry, rusty encrusted fingernails, and Charlotte immediately shoved the evidence in her pocket. She was fully aware that withholding information from Leah's daughter's doctor was wrong; that was what her medical mind told her. But the small niche in the back of her brain, the little room she had left for her other rarely plucked emotions, told her to leave him floundering.

"Look, do you wanna play Doctor House with me or do you wanna help out Mrs. Finch?" Charlotte remarked malignantly. Cooper simply stared at her, mouth gaping, eyes wide. Charlotte had no time for his mind games. Both Jess and Leah Finch were in surgery now, both on the brink of death, as she and Cooper stood in the halls of the hospital, life circulating through St. Ambrose's veins around them. She still had not even gotten around to calling Leah's family to inform her of the news, she began to walk off, thinking ten steps ahead, as she always did.

Cooper caught up with her, knocking the wind from her lungs as he twirled her around, dancing their morphed tango of affection. Charlotte flushed red as Cooper's move turned the heads of several pokey nurses. Cooper, seemingly unfazed by it all, grabbed her chin and jerked it in his direction.

"Charlotte, what's wrong?" he asked her, dropping his voice and his frustration. Charlotte's lips quivered with empty lies and excuses to pin up. But Pandora's Box had been unexpectantly opened and she was suddenly fifteen feet from him, her arms flailing above her head in irritation.

"You know perfectly well what's wrong!" she snapped, her lashing nearly throwing him against the opposite wall. Cooper shook his head.

"So I don't live by my phone, big deal. I'm here now, and I can help…" he began to say.

Charlotte rolled her large blue eyes and began stalking away. Cooper called out Charlotte's name. She closed her eyes and pleaded her pager to start beeping. Surely, all of the hospital had heard his desperate shriek. This was not how she wanted to deal with this situation—she hardly wanted to deal with it at all—but those five seconds she chose to open her mouth were in the past, and now she had to start looking into the regretted future.

Charlotte steered herself backwards, grabbed Cooper by the collar, and led him back outside. Sirens blared from every direction and echoed off the brick walls. Winds of the unusually in-climate Los Angeles weather sent fine strips of gold in her eyes. There was chaos all around, but time had frozen in the place Charlotte and Cooper were standing: the eye of the hurricane.

"To be honest," Charlotte said, her vocal chords straining to prevail over the wails and screams of business, "I'm feeling betrayed, Coop."

Cooper's lip curled in confusion. "Betrayed? About Leah?"

"Will you just shut up about the damn patients for once and think about me? Think about what's happened? You're precious Violet wasn't the only one hurt by that video of Barbie's, you know," Charlotte chided, her tears subtle as she forced herself to get the explanation out in the open. Cooper flashed blue and red as a paramedic drove past, his mouth forming an uppercase 'O'.

"This is about Dell's video?" Cooper asked, as if the subject was unheard of. Charlotte was grateful for the noise; it hid her sniffle of weakness.

"Yes."

"You're upset…over the…video?"

"Um, yeah."

"Dell's video is the reason why you're so pissed off?"

"For God's sake, Cooper! Yes!" Charlotte screamed. To her bewilderment and surprise, Cooper started laughing hysterically. His hyena howls blended right in with the calls of emergency.

Charlotte's mouth mirrored Cooper's previous position. "What the…?"

"I have to say, isn't it a little…I don't know…isn't it bad timing to be talking about this?" Cooper managed through his laughter. Charlotte's strong palm struck the back of Cooper's titled head.

"You don't get it, do you? You got off so easily back there…that video made _me _look like the fool, Cooper, not you."

"What do you mean? We were _all _humiliated," Cooper shot back. Charlotte's hand spoke threat as she snapped it to a ninety degree angle. Destination: Cooper's cheek. His mouth clamped shut, an impossible task for him.

"I've known all of those shameful things about me Cooper, ever since I was eighteen years old. What's worse than having all of those insecurities broadcasted like that was…you knew. You knew the whole time, and you never told me. You let me become the laughing stock of the whole freaking world!"

In the time it took glue to dry, Cooper finally responded.

"I—I don't know what to say," he admitted.

It was far from an apology, in Charlotte's book, and it was the last thing she wanted to hear. If that flimsy sentence was all he could conjure up after the lengthy deliberation, then maybe he was not the man she thought he was. Charlotte wiped her cooled bangs from her eyes, smearing her water-colored mascara in the process.

"Leah's in OR 12. Jess is in OR 8," she muttered at the same moment the noise around them ceased.

PETE

Pete believed from observances that the most common answer when asked the question, "What would you wish for if a genie came by to grant you three wishes?" was "Three more wishes". People, he came to assume, were either too wishful to hone down on just three, or too selfish to settle for three. Either way, the same principal had applied to him.

A genie had come by. Pete was unsure when or how it had happened, but he was fully convinced that some mystical being had dropped by and kindly had granted him three wishes without his consent of doing so.

Wish One: To become something more with Violet Turner.

"Morning." Her greeting was barely there, the air between them was so foggy.

Pete made a quick reply in return, his thoughts swirling around a simpler time when a baby seemed like a hundredth of a possibility for the two of them. His thoughts never involved Sheldon, either. The genie, his kind known for being notoriously sneaky, had obviously taken his wish and twisted it into one giant, questionable love triangle that none of them had ever wanted.

Wish Two: Get over Violet as quickly as possible.

Her eyes flashed red as she honed in on his shirt. Pete played with the shirt's hem nervously, unsure of what she had detected. Violet pursed her lips and quietly made an observation to herself.

"Weren't you wearing that yesterday?" she finally drawled. Pete, who had come directly to work from Lisa's bed, sighed and nodded. There was no getting by a therapist like Violet.

When she had rejected him for the hundredth time, Pete had searched far and wide for a possible suitor, the capable woman behind Door Number Three that he had failed to choose to begin with. The genie had unexpectantly plopped Lisa on his doorstep, and what had started as a attempt to spark the little green devils inside Violet's head had snowballed into a sticky web he could not untangle himself from.

"Um, yeah. I…I stayed at Lisa's last night."

Violet's face was unresponsive for a moment before each and every pore on her body had soaked in his weighted answer. Finally, she let in a hitched breath and rumpled her messy brown tresses.

"Y—you were with…Lisa? You got back together?" she stammered. Pete could see the dozen conflicts rolling through her mind, each one taking the color from her already pale silhouette.

"Yes," Pete answered. He could have easily lied and told her that he had slept at the office, but there was no denying the perfume on his neck and the scrapes of fingernails on his scalp. Violet's mouth twitched with an unknown argument before she turned back to her original intention of gathering her files.

"Well," she muttered condescendingly, "congratulations." Pete's eyes, by default of many arguments with his female interests, rolled to the ceiling.

"Oh, please, like you are any more innocent than I am," he sneered, throwing his palms to the sky. Violet slammed down her folders.

"Excuse me? I'm not the one playing sex-around-the-rosy with a vulnerable patient's _mother_!" Violet accused, pointing a finger in his direction. "That's just horrible! I know you're going to hurt her, Pete, I just know it! And that little boy…"

Under normal circumstances, Pete would argue that the little facial mannerisms she made when she was fuming made her all the more difficult to argue with, but this time around, the anger was mutual. Pete had mannerisms of his own, and his scowl emerged.

"Really?! When should I be expecting my invitation to the wedding, future Mrs. Wallace?" Pete snarled, power serving the ball past Violet's ear, just nipping at the fragile edge of her internal balance. The woman gaped at him.

"What are you talking about?"

"Like I couldn't see the little sweaty guy get down on one knee and seal your fate right in front of me!" Pete yelled. Violet's shook her head in disbelief.

"You're unbelievable," she whispered.

Pete's mouth was apparently not finished running its course. It still had some endurance left to make it to the finish line. "Whatever. I _want _you to marry Yoda. You can live happily ever after with him and pop out some little hobbits. You'll get what you've always wanted."

Violet's head was still moving left and right, like a pendulum keeping time to his rash words. "If you think _that's _what I really want, then you do _not _know me as well as I thought you did," she grumbled heatedly. Pete, intensities deeply contrasting with Violet's tamed flame, laughed wickedly.

"What the hell do you mean, Violet?"

"I mean, I thought you knew me better than someone who would jump into commitment like that so quickly…and with someone I hardly feel that kind of love for. You really think I would say yes to Sheldon so quickly, Pete? There are other…things I would have to consider, things that you seem to have completely forgotten! Things that I want more than anything else! Things a ring and bunch of quotes from romantic comedies could never match up to! Obviously, whatever has been clouding your vision was too strong to make you see that, otherwise, you would have put that poor woman out of her misery. You don't get to turn the tables and make me look like the bad guy, because Sheldon came to me out of nowhere the other day! _You _went back to Lisa! _You _kissed me in that closet! _You _broke my heart just as many times as I broke yours!"

"By the way," she reveled in her raging spiral, "you're the father."

Pete's world, the glass globe he had kept himself carefully tucked away in, cracked at her words. With each heightened second that passed between them, the cracks spread faster and larger until it exploded. Shards of striking material pricked at his skin like his acupuncture needles. Pete's mouth formed the word, but no sound emitted from his diaphragm.

"W—What?"

Violet sent him a scrutinizing glare and leaned forward. What would have been a moment of sentiment had become a cold war between the two of them. "I said: you're the father. Congratulations, Pete! In addition to your perfect new family, we'll throw in eight extra pounds of baggage!"

If only the conversation had started that way.

Pete could practically see the imaginary map of Violet's heart over heading before him. Etched over Violet's heart was a black smudge. The spot she had always set aside for him was left wide open and searching for a new occupant.

"Violet…"

Waddling away a far distance already, Violet stopped to peer over her shoulder.

"Save it. I've already gotten an earful from my sister, and I don't need to hear it from _you_."

Wish Three: Pete wanted that baby to be his.

With a _'poof' _the genie had taken his third wish and transformed it into the worst possible way it could have come true.

And he did not even get his next three wishes.

_Wasn't it good?  
Wasn't he fine?  
Isn't it madness  
__He won't be mine?  
Didn't I know  
How it would go  
If I knew from the start?  
Why am I falling apart?_

**Heyo! So yeah, my original intention was to get this finished before season three started. That way, I could play around however I liked. But life got way too hectic, and as you hopefully know, season three has officially stared. I'm still going to play around though. Hope you don't mind...but I have such clear cut ideas for the way this was going to go and the show completely goes against that. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed the drama this chapter. Please, please, please be sure to review! They make my day!**

**-ILoVeWicked**

**PS- Doctor Bailey next week! wOoT!**


	23. These Days

**Disclaimer: I know what you're thinking. And as much as I wish I did…I don't.**

_**These Days**_

_What's this life anyway?  
What's it to you and me?  
What's it to anyone?  
Who are we supposed to be?  
Make me a storybook  
Write me away from here  
I need a different now_

SAM

It had been a long time since he had been able to mull over a nice, tall glass of wine. His calendar was chillingly unoccupied. Sam decided that rather than wasting away the hours by longingly staring out at the tumbling, grunting beast beyond his back porch, he would rather watch the ocean with his vision slightly blurred around the edges. The pain was far less of a rude awakening that way. The lips of the bottle and the glass met with a droning kiss that left Sam to believe that the particular situation at hand called for swigging his expensive indulgences right out of the bottle and shoving the glass to the side to call desperately after him as he pushed his concrete blocks, serving as feet, along the floor .

Sam oohed and ahhed to himself, eyes following the graceful twists and turns of the ocean as it broke land. The night was dry with dead, untouched air and the stars were in full blossom above his head. Anyone actually interested in the wonders of nature—unlike the bug-spraying, house coddled Sam—would have thought it to be a beautiful night to enjoy life.

Raising his still full bottle to the stars, Sam cheered to the pitiful lifestyle he had been lately abiding by, and to the inevitable future, laced with unfortunate happenings and slips of the tongue unable to recant. His mouth was nearly filled with foreign bliss when he heard a light cough prevail above the ocean and diffuse into his ear.

"Addison?" Sam's voice greeted her in the form of a question. Somehow, the fact that Addison had been his neighbor for over the span of a year always seemed to evade his mind. He half imagined her to be with Gucci bags at hand, gallantly arriving once again to this beach in all her Seattle glory.

Time tables had stretched immensely since that fateful day Sam had learned that he had been screwed over in the real estate world by his ex-wife. Even though her entrance always seemed to take him aback to an extent, he was grateful for her company at this point.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Addison remarked, eyeing the settling bottle at Sam's side. Long fingers raked through the mass of red locks upon her head. "I just…I needed someone to talk to." Sam smiled, shook his head, and patted the deck beside him.

"So," Sam began after a few moments of musing over how her misfortune could possibly match up to his while she made herself comfortable, "what's on your mind?"

Blue orbs that held the weight of the world slowly dilated over to him, and he immediately knew the answer. He hardly knew anything about this Noah, other than what Addison had told him before; Sam hardly knew if he was worth both Addison's energy and sanity all fighting a half-witted battle. Sam looked up at the stars and let out a soft chuckle as he thought about Naomi and Duncan and how well they seemed to fit the roles of the swaggering cardiologist and his wife. All along, their stories went together like two terribly sappy pop songs, centering on the single most popular topic that presented itself to be the only object of conversation in this world: love.

"Oh. That's…" Sam began, only to be thrown off guard by Addison's sudden boost of ignition in her heart.

"You know what bugs me, Sam? We're good people, you and I. I mean, I save babies. Freaking _babies_, Sam! And you do your whole 'self-help' thing and change people for the better. We dedicate our entire lives to helping other people, and yet we get _nothing _in return. Nada. Zip. Instead, we feel _worse_ because we can't manage to save the people we love—I mean, care about, let alone take care of ourselves," Addison ranted.

Sam could hardly tell if she was even aware of his being beside her as she groaned. This stranger looked so far away from the usual Addison he had known. Seattle had molded her into a more careful person, a person of stricter moral and finer tune in insecurities. Sam could not say that he particularly enjoyed her change of heart, but he was willing to bear it for the sake of keeping what was left of her around before he would loose the final strand of what was normal in his life.

"I know what you mean," Sam agreed. "Naomi's growing more and more distant, and there's nothing I can do about it." He kicked at the sandy gravel below him, his words surfacing naturally for the first time in what seemed like forever. Addison's mouth formed an odd non-polygon before she spoke up once again.

"Naomi? I mean, I was talking about Noah…but Naomi?" Addison asked with a curved nose. Sam breathed a fake smile. He was hoping that she would immediately understand and he would not have to bother explaining further. Apparently, Addison's head had been way too far up in the clouds lately.

"Yeah, there's something up with her…but I have no idea what it is. And I just…I feel like when I find out what is happening it's all going to blow up in my face. I wish she would just tell me, Addison, because I see this look she gives me…and I know it's not a normal Naomi look. There's something that she wants to tell me, that she _would _tell me if things were different, but even she can't bring herself to let it out."

Addison nodded. Her fingernails shaved away as she picked incessantly at the wooden deck beneath her. "Now that you mention it, she has been off lately."

Sam bobbed his head and shrugged. "Of course, it could just be the whole Dell thing…" Addison's hand flew to her head, which Sam could practically see throbbing even in the dark and distance.

"Dell, right. What are we going to do about…?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing. Dell quit. Nae and I went to talk to him about calmly discussing the matter and he blew up without giving either of us a chance. Which reminds me: we need to start looking for a new midwife and secretary," Sam explained bitterly. The spat he had with the younger boy the other day only seemed to be the beginning of the never-ending, twisting, swerving tunnel.

Addison rolled her eyes. "Ugh, great. And then Violet's leaving soon…"

Sam, struck with the first actual reaction to the fact that Violet was having a baby, rubbed his tensing neck muscles. "Oh…wow…yeah. Pete being the father isn't going to be any help," he continued. Addison picked up the torch to be shocked with a new bit of news and gaped at him.

"Pete? Really? That's great for them!" Addison cheered. Sam sighed.

"Not exactly. Violet and Pete are apparently no longer on speaking terms since they had an irrational argument in front of half our staff and patients."

"Dammit," Addison grumbled. "Is there anything else I should know about my practice?"

How badly he had wanted to correct her and say that the practice belonged to him and Naomi, but Addison was correct. Naomi had stepped down, and now she was stepping out. Sam's brain searched for anything else that could have possibly gone wrong in the last month with what used to be his safe haven, silently praying that he could find nothing. He swore under his breath when he remembered a very disgruntled Cooper trudging into work that morning.

"Well, there's Cooper and his unreasonable emotional investment in a teenage cancer patient," Sam added. "Everyone's scouring for some sort of light, Addie, and I can't find it for _anyone. _I'm failing, and I'm miserable, too." Addison looked up into the endless universe and let out a half-hearted scream.

Her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, Addison averted her attention to Sam. He could see that she was struggling to keep her tears under radar. "I'm sorry I haven't been around lately…I'm just as pathetic as the rest of our dysfunctional little cluster of freak show contestants, I guess," she admitted, pulling her sweater closer around her body and constricting the wooly material. All of her frustrations were exerted on the stretchy piece of clothing. Much like Addison, Sam was unsure of how much more pressure the sweater could handle before it ripped to shreds.

In silent vigil, Sam's hand fell on hers, their contact spotlighted by the omniscient moon.

"Hey, we'll get through this," he promised her, though he was unsure if he could keep to the promise. Even if he could not find the light for himself, he would sure as hell try for the rest of his freaks. Reaching behind Addison's ear to whisk away a strand of stray hair that had fallen through her eyelashes, he added, "All of us will."

Wordlessly, he slid his sour wine over to her and turned back to stare out at the mocking ocean, its horizon mirroring a diffracted image of the full moon. Sam gazed out at the calm line between ocean and sky, the border between rough disturbances and peace. He longed to raise a glass at how uncanny the resemblance was to Addison's practice.

NAOMI

Disheartened, Naomi threw her cell phone into her bag. She had left several messages for both Addison and Sam, making her unbending need for a shoulder to lean on obvious in every voicemail, and yet she had received no call in return. What could they both possibly be doing on a Thursday that required them to be occupied all night long?

Her answer, she feared, sat on Sam's back porch. Addison and Sam's hands settled on one another, Naomi watched for a few moments of time warping and black holes ripping open as the people she called her best friends conversed over a bottle of expensive wine that matched the bottle in her hand. She had planned to surprise them both with a little drop-in. Sam's door had been wide open, as if an omen for her to enter. That, she now learned, was Addison's doing. They had beaten her to the chase.

Naomi frowned, as she could see that if she had chosen to take one step further into that threshold, she would automatically become the third wheel, the unwanted piece of the useful bike that had to be taken off as soon as possible and put in the garage for unknown later use.

Turning on her heels and quietly sneaking back out Sam's front door, Naomi pulled out her cell phone and began to dial Bill's number.

No, she decided as the phone began to ring and she slid into her driver's seat, the phone call was not being made out of smite or jealousy or anger. Not to Addison, and certainly not to Sam. The phone call was being made because the choice that she had placed to the side for too long had been made all along. She just never wanted to believe it. She just wanted someone to hand her the decision as if it were the as easy as choosing a Christmas tree. But the reality of it all was that she was the one in charge of her choice, and she had taken action from the very moment Bill had opened his mouth and made that offer.

What purposes beheld her at Oceanside Wellness Group? She was clearly of no use to anyone anymore, as exhibited by Sam and Addison's super-secret-powwow and Dell's sudden independence. _She _had been the one to run the practice into the ground. _She _had been the one with the least satisfied patients. _She _was the one who was floundering. Unless she did something about it, Naomi feared that she would never get air.

Finally, he answered, "Naomi?"

Naomi almost considered hanging up, but when the image of Sam and Addison's houses, both bleak and dark, showed up in her rearview mirror, she let out a hitched sigh. "Yes, Bill, it's me. I'm just calling to tell you that…that I…"

Sam's kitchen light flickered on. Her lungs urged her brain to breathe…just keep breathing…

"Yes, Naomi?"

"I'm in," Naomi said with affirmation before hanging up. The decision was made. It was always made before the victim could even have an inkling of what she would choose.

But the new decision that presented her was: Did she make the right choice? One thing was for sure, though. She could not turn back.

_Where we can wear each other for awhile  
I'll lend you my tears if I could borrow a smile  
We'll get through tomorrow somehow today  
Happy After...  
Once upon these days_

**Now I know I should have posted this up sooner...but life got horribly crazy and everything that had nothing to do with school or my other classes was pretty much shoved to the side. But I thought I'd push myself to type up this entire chapter as a little Halloween treat. Also, I don't know if anyone else noticed this, but as I was reading over the chapter (that being said I do my own editing and I'm exhausted so forgive any mistakes in spelling/grammar) I realized that I've pretty much always put Sam and Naomi together in chapters. Just so you know, I did not stick them together constantly on purpose...that was just kind of absentmindedly done. Maybe it's b/c I just love them sooo much! So that's my two cents for this chapter. Please let me know what you think...I'd really enjoy reading something that doesn't have to do with US History or biology :P Thanks everyone!**

**-ILoVeWicked**

**PS- Is it me, or did you just want to COUNT the number of times they used Violet's name in that last episode? "Violet this, Violet that..." jeez, use a pronoun every once in a while, will ya? **


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